Dare to hope?
by gusenitsa
Summary: It had been a year, almost to the day. One year. Out of the hundreds he had now lived. A drop, a moment really. Or that's how it should have felt, if there was anything remotely logical about it... Getting her memories back seemed impossible enough, but that is only the start... He said he always liked a challenge!
1. The Search

He stood outside the door for a moment. There was nothing extraordinary to see, no marker with her name. Just a few gold numbers ... 311. One of many, of hundreds of nearly identical apartments in this horrid city. Did he dare hope this one might be different?

It had been one year, one year out of the hundreds he had now lived. A drop, a moment really. Or that's how it should have felt, if there was anything remotely logical about it.

* * *

Pain was nothing new.

Losing a hand, a lover, a brother ... it redefines the concept of pain. Though he could claim no tolerance to it even after all this time. He hadn't become quite so fond of rum until _her, _of course. Until his Milah. Then he chose the cowards path, the numbing influence of rum to get him through the day, dreams of revenge to get him through the night. Not that he hadn't needed a numbing painkiller before Milah...

His brother had been his first weakness. A brother's love leaving a soft vulnerable spot on his heart, ripped to shreds as Liam died in his arms...again. No one should have to go through that even once, but the first time his brother lay dying the magic of Neverland had saved him. Neverland's cruelty lay in letting them think they had escaped before stealing Liam back again. And so that soft spot burned him alive; in an anguished fire that destroyed a naval officer and forged a pirate. He embraced his new persona, his ship, his crew and the freedom of the sea. He built a protective wall around his heart, and it began to grow cold. Thank God.

Then he met _her. _Killian had not expected her to be any different than any other woman in a seaport tavern, they were all pretty much the same...after all nice girls did not frequent seaside taverns to mingle with pirates. He wasn't all that interested in nice girls anyway. Milah had spark, though, and a free spirit. She shone with color against the monochromatic backdrop of the tavern. He spoke to her of the wind, how it lifted you from the deck and carried your soul to distant lands. Told her of jungles so dense you could see no more than a hand's stretch forward. Of waters so clear you could watch the crustaceans build their homes fathoms below in the sand while nearby mountains growled with barely contained fire. He told her of birds adrift in aerial currents guiding him from island to island. A life restrained only by the beauty of the present and inspired by the potential of the future.

She was a woman trapped, bound to a husband who would not even grant her the opportunity to start fresh somewhere new, where no one would know of their dishonor. Where their son could grow up without being known as the son of a coward. She was also bound to the child, a voluntary imprisonment. How could she fail to be enthralled. She came to the bar night after night to hear his stories and he was equally enthralled by her. Her fire warmed his heart and whispered in his ear,_Perhaps you don't have to be alone_.

She was a married woman, and so he was almost relieved when her coward of a husband finally showed up. Until he saw the child and hatred bloomed in his soul. Not against the child, against the simpering, smirking man who brought a child into a bar to guilt his wife into coming home. A man who made no attempt to deserve this woman; who instead simply bound her to him with the child she loved. Milah had asked Rumpelstiltskin for freedom, for all of them, to go away as a family, see the world ... to see something. But he refused her as always, utterly blind to any desires but his own. That night Milah came to Killian, begging him to take her away, to grant her the freedom of his stories. "What will you do," he had asked her, "if he chooses to fight for you?" She hadn't answered but he thought he knew. Milah loved her son; if there was any hope of her being less miserable and still being able to be with him...

Killian himself had started the rumors that he had kidnapped Milah. The one comfort that they could offer Bae, that he would not grow up thinking that she had abandoned him. It had the additional effect of giving Milah's husband an chance to fight for her. They would never find out what Milah would have done if her husband had fought for her. He refused, even when he thought she had been kidnapped against her will, Rumpelstiltskin would not fight for her freedom.

They had underestimated Rumpelstiltskin, though they would not realize it for many years. When Rumpelstiltskin reappeared as the Dark One, Killian realized his life was now forfeit. The man was still a coward and he did not challenge someone if he thought there was the possibility of getting hurt. There was no dueling the Dark One, no winning against a man who could be anywhere he wanted at any time. So he told the crocodile that his Milah was dead, and hoped the carnage would end with him. Milah had made Killian's heart soft again, which he became all too aware of when Rumpelstiltskin decided to stick his hand through his chest. He thought that had been bad. If he had known what was coming he would have begged for death then and there. Damn her. Damn her for being too brave to let him die alone, as he should have. She was clever, though, and she thought they could outwit the Dark One. She forgot that not all men were like Killian Jones, not all men cared for good form.

To be honest, he never thought she was in danger. He was a bit surprised that he was still alive, but Rumpelstiltskin was still her husband, the father of her child, he wouldn't hurt her. And perhaps he wouldn't have, if only she hadn't told the Dark One that she had never loved him. Then everything moved too fast. He was screaming her name and fighting his way to her as she fell . Maybe the Dark One wouldn't have killed her, if she hadn't whispered I love you. He hardly felt it when the crocodile took his hand, he wouldn't feel the physical wounds until later. The fire had returned, and this time it destroyed Killian Jones and Hook emerged.

Revenge was everything now, all that was left of his mangled heart. He started building his wall again. But fate had no such easy plans for Hook. It sent her son to him. Fate sent Bae and when Killian looked into his eyes he saw her. Bae was also the son of the man who had murdered his love. It didn't matter, he had her eyes, her spirit. He shouldn't have been surprised that Bae was not exactly thrilled upon discovering Milah's portrait. Killian had thought that perhaps he could live for something other than revenge, but it wasn't to be. Bae thought Hook had destroyed his family and killed his mother. When the lost boys took him away Hook froze his heart. For good this time. Revenge and death were all that was left to him now, and if he could accomplish them in that order, it was the best he could possibly hope for.

Pain was nothing new.

Fear was new...almost nostalgic actually. It had been decades...centuries, since fear had any real grasp on him. Fear becomes oddly unnecessary when one has nothing left to lose. For 300 years, Hook thought of nothing but grief and revenge and let his heart stay frozen. It was wounded, the ice protected it from the final blow that would destroy it, crush it to dust like hers.

He wasn't entirely certain when it began to thaw again. There was a moment of worry when he and Emma faced the Giant, a flicker of pain when she deserted him. Most of it was an act, of course, and he told himself that all of it was. It was safer not to think about it. Then suddenly, as he sailed away from Storybrook, he felt a disquiet in the pit of his stomach. The feeling was so foreign that he almost didn't recognize it for what it was. Fear, real and honest and centered around the insufferable, suicidal woman he had left behind. It clawed at his insides and he clasped the wheel with a white-knuckled hand.

Fear.

God, no...

* * *

"I suppose so." Fairly innocuous as phrases go, but this one was the single hardest phrase Killian had ever had to say. When the crocodile had asked him if he had given up on his revenge, forced him to say out loud that something was more important than revenge, more important than _her. _He was still disgusted by the creature that had taken Milah from him. Rumpelstiltskin said that he had killed her because she had crushed his heart. Killian knew what a crushed heart looked like and that laughing smirking crocodile was no victim.

He focused on Emma instead. He had a new beacon, a new purpose; He would get Henry back to his mother, and do whatever it took to protect Emma and her family. Even his tattoo took on a new meaning. He had placed it there as a reminder that the only thing that mattered was his revenge, for Milah. Now when he looked at it it told him to keep Emma safe. He had not forgotten that pain, he never would. The two people he had loved most had perished in his arms. He couldn't do it again, couldn't survive it again. So Emma had to be safe. It had only gotten worse, the clawing desperate fear when he realized that Emma was going to Neverland, as he watched her parents weep beside her limp body after the mermaid attack, as she led the way into the dark jungle and in the recesses of Dark Hollow... Somehow they did survive Neverland, but there is always another crisis, another danger. Standing at the town line the fear returns as the world conspires to separate them once more. She was safe at least, but she was gone.

One year. Out of the hundreds he had lived.

He stood outside the door for a moment. Did he dare hope this one might be different?

* * *

**AN: ****I always appreciate reviews! I've also written an** almost prequel to this story called SlipKnot from before the curse. I say almost prequel because you don't need to read that before reading this. 

**AN: Angstier than my usual style... but what can I say...His character breaks my heart. He's not exactly a knight in shinning armor, but after a backstory like his, I can hardly believe he still functions at all.**

**Also for anyone that loves his character, read the Beka Cooper book Terrier (by Tamora Pierce). Rosto has such a similar style I promise you'll love him too! **


	2. The Plan

_She won't remember..._

"Swan...At last."

_She won't remember, she won't remember..._

"Do I know you?"

His heart sank. Of course, but his mind had been playing tricks on him again. Every night she remembered him, in his head and reason would have no say in the matter. Every day, hundreds of nights of desperate stupid hope that she was waiting for him too... crushed cruelly by reality. Emma Swan would do anything for her family though... He began to ramble, hating the desperation he could hear in his voice. Probably should have thought this through a little better...

"I need your help. Something's happened, something terrible. Your family is in trouble." _I'm in trouble._

"My family is right here. Who are you?"

_Wouldn't you like to know? Killian Jones, but you've taken to calling me by my more colorful moniker Hook, a naval officer, a one-handed pirate with a drinking problem, an orphan, a thief, yours, a man of honor..._

"An old friend."

_Don't do it._

"Look,"

_Don't do it, it won't work..._

"I know you can't remember me..."

_I don't care._

_"_but I can make you..."

_Three hundred and eighty four bloody days Swan, I'll ask for pardon later..._

So he gave into the impulse; pulling her close and kissing her, trying to force reality into the form of his delusions.

For a moment it was heaven, her eyes close and he thought; It really is a fairy tale...Perhaps fate didn't notice that the villain is kissing the Princess...

Unfortunately the Princess did notice (_Damn) _and she sent him flying backwards against the wall, face contorted in agony. That's my bloody irate Princess. Somewhere in the back of his head, behind the subconscious voice screaming every expletive he knew (and he'd gathered quite a few of them) he realized that when she got her memory back, this was just going to make her laugh.

She was saying something and he grimaced as he tried to explain..."A long shot, but I had to try. I was hoping you felt as I did." _Add it to the list of things I'll regret later... __  
_

She grumbled something about handcuffs and it was all he could do to pull himself upright, rambling again until he finally yelled "You have to remember..." as the door closed in his face.

He fell back against the wall. That could have gone better.

Finally recovering from her blow he stood. He wanted to break down the door. Three hundred and eighty four days... and she was just on the other side of that door.

He stopped himself though. She didn't remember, she wasn't ready. Regina had done her best to weaken the spells hold on Emma but she had laughed at the Charming's pleas. "Don't you think if I could break it, I would have my son back already." She told them dryly.

* * *

He was a drunkard, obviously. She had tasted the Rum when he kissed her, and something else that made her think of the last time she had taken Henry to the beach. He was obviously insane.

She tried to forget about the crazy man that had broken into her apartment building. She took Henry to school, went about her day as normal. Upon moving to New York she found another job doing what she had always done, as a bails bonds person. But the feeling left by the Stranger's visit floated around in her mind relentlessly. He had called her Swan. No one had ever called her Swan, but it felt familiar. Everything about him felt familiar, and despite her threat to call the cops she didn't feel threatened by him. Partly because she carried a weapon...but it was more than that. Obviously she had never met him. She would have remembered. It was like a memory from a dream which is forgotten in the morning, but leaves traces.

* * *

He regretted that kiss. At first he thought it would be worth it, but he had ruined his best chance. If he hadn't kissed her he could have said he had the wrong apartment, and tried to charm his way back into her life, maybe knock some memories loose if the curses grip weakened. Now she certainly thought him mad. He returned to the rooms he had rented once he realized that his Swan was in this building. They were just down the hall from hers. That wouldn't help him if she found out. Then he went out again, walking aimlessly through the streets to prevent himself from going back to 311. When he returned to the building he sank down onto the steps, seeming to lack the energy to climb the stairs. Eventually he realized he wasn't alone, a young brunette woman was leaning against the wall watching him. It is a testament to his preoccupation that he didn't say one of the dozen or so things that popped into his head to say.

"Are you method?" She asked him abruptly.

He pondered the words for a few moments. He had discovered several things since coming into the city. First, people don't speak to one another. Second if the first rule is broken they say very strange things and third they don't seem to speak quite the same language that he does.

"Apologies, love, but I don't ..."

"Oh, I love method actors, such dedication. Who are you?"

"Hook." He said tiredly, expecting her to make a very strange face before leaving. That is what the others had done.

Instead she made a very highly pitched noise and moved closer, before whispering; "I love pirates, would you like to plunder my-"

He rapidly stood as the girl tried to sit next to him, and before he could speak she took another contemplative look at him and cried; "Ah of course. Too bad for the ladies though. If you ever change your mind..." She winked and skipped up the stairs.

This is a very strange world. Still the girl gave him an idea. If 'method actor' was a believable explanation perhaps it would work on Swan too. He wasn't entirely sure what 'method' meant, but it was worth a try.

He found his way to 311 again, knocking on the door slightly less dramatically than the first time around.

After a few moments the door opened. "Wait," He cried, pushing his foot forward to stop the door as it slammed shut again. "I am only here to offer my apologies for any affront caused by my earlier attentions."

"Affront?" She grumbled with an air of disbelief. "Antiquated language probably does it for some girls but with me it'll just get you arrested, understand?"

"Of course, lass, it is only that I am a player."

She looked quizzically at him for a moment before smirking and attempting to close the door again with a muttered "I have no doubt." This was not the reaction the other woman had ...

"I only meant, an actor, a ... method actor." The words felt awkward and he glanced up at her to determine if they were having the desired effect.

Not exactly, but Emma did stop trying to shut the door. This bizarre man had been in her head all day, and she found herself curious. Now that it seemed marginally less likely that he was a raving lunatic, what harm could it do...

"A method actor, really... I've never met a method actor before."

"You never forget your first," he commented without thinking.

She froze, eyeing him warily. What was it about this man? "I guess that explains the coat. Doesn't so much explain why you're here."

"Well, one does grow weary of using all the same tired ways of starting a conversation with a beautiful lady."

"I'm no lady."

"Course you are, luv. Now I just so happen to reside just...there," he leaned toward her as if to see from her angle before pointing towards his rooms down the hall. "And it has been my pleasure to make your acquaintance."

He turned to go, rather pleased with himself that the door was still open. His smile only broadened when she called out "So then...What is your name?"

"Hook," he said with a small bow. She looked startled and opened her mouth but he continued; "Yes, luv, no perm."

He walked down the hall and didn't look back. He leaned back against his door as he closed it. Well perhaps he had undone some of the damage he had done that day. Though he wasn't thrilled at having escaped a curse traveled through realms and spent a year in search of his lady only to be downgraded to the potential stalker down the hall. Still nothing could dampen his spirits, for the first time in three hundred and eighty four days he knew precisely where Emma Swan was, and he had a plan. He had seen the look in her eyes when he had first kissed her; when he called her lass and told her 'you never forget your first.' There was something there. She didn't know it yet but he was going to keep shaking those memories loose with every look, every touch, every turn of phrase until she beat that bloody curse. This might just work.

* * *

Emma Swan closed the door slowly, puzzled confusion covering her features. Henry came out of the kitchen grinning, "Is he a real pirate?" He asked excitedly.

"No Henry, Just an overzealous actor."

"He looked like a real pirate."

Emma laughed. "Pirates don't look like that Henry, he looked like an overzealous actor."

"I want to meet him, Do you think he'll teach me how to fight with a sword?"

"He doesn't know how to fight with a sword."

"Pleeeease."

"All right, We'll ask him tomorrow, but I can guarantee he doesn't know how to fight with a sword any more than I do."

That night her dreams were filled with cavernous rooms piled high with gold and a man screaming her last name.


	3. The Dance

The next morning Hook awoke to a knock on his door. He smiled, either someone had the wrong apartment or he was still in the lady Swan's head.

He opened the door with a charming smile. "Hey, beautiful."

She wasn't alone. Henry looked up at him with bright eyes and the pirate smiled even brighter when he saw Henry.

Emma looked embarrassed and she stuttered, "Henry wouldn't shut up about...he wanted to ask you to teach him how to fight with a sword. I already told him that..."

"That's a plausible excuse, Swan, but next time don't stand on ceremony." There was that look again. Good.

He redirected his attention to Henry. "You want 'to learn how to use a cutlass, lad?"

Henry nodded eagerly.

"And your mother won't kill me if I agree?" He asked.

Emma nodded in surprise. "I'll be with him, of course."

"Well let's go then..." Hook says, but Emma backs away, "Not today, though, Henry has school."

"Until tomorrow morning then. Rise with the sun and prepare yourself for battle!"

* * *

It was another long 20 hours before he would see Emma and Henry again, but he knew better than to press too hard. There was a delicate balance he must strike between trying to spark the buried memories and driving her away. A balance that had shifted onto precarious grounds with his impulsive attempt at true loves kiss. _God, I am going to pay for that._

Emma wasn't having an easy time of it either. Henry told anyone that would listen that he was going to learn how to be a real live pirate and her dreams were plagued with bizarre snatches of conversations and places she had never been. Dark forests, gilded rooms, the ocean during a storm, a tiny diner and something about a well. Little pieces of scenes that played around in her mind while her walls were down.

When the following finally morning arrived Hook awoke before sunrise to prepare for their practice. And by prepare, he meant pick the lock on the rooftop access stairs. Slipping the lock into his pocket he returned to his rooms just in time to meet Emma and Henry. He laughed when he opened the door, because Henry had even pulled out an eye patch for the occasion.

"Nice touch there, lad. You know if he gets to dress the part perhaps I should as well."

"Aren't you already dressing the part," Emma asked.

"Oh not nearly." Pulling off the leather glove he had been wearing he disappeared for a moment back into the room before returning with a bright silver Hook on his arm and three sheathed blades.

"Cool." Henry said.

"You've got to be kidding me." Emma quickly repositioned Henry on the other side of her, farther from the 'accessory.'

"Did you...I mean for the part, did you..."

There was a flash of fire in his eyes and his jaw tensed. "Certainly not." Emma looked moments away from dragging her son away so Hook hurriedly closed the door and led them down the hall.

"You know... They make really nice prosthetics these days, Why..."

"It's a reminder of someone I once knew, long before I met you." He seemed to remember himself and smiled, "before I came to this city, I mean."

"Where is she now?" she asked.

He hesitated. She had read him so easily at the top of the beanstalk but then she had known about his hand, about Rumpelstiltskin. Eventually he settled on the innocuous and vague; "I have not seen her in many years." But Emma was always too perceptive even with half her memories blotted out.

"I'm sorry," she responded, before cutting herself off, suddenly realizing how inappropriate it was to be having this conversation with a man she had just met.

Emma looked at him suspiciously, doing her best to remember that she was not to trust the madman. _If I had a mother, she would probably say not to talk to strangers with swords and hooks and...What the hell am I doing here... _"Where are we going?" She asked, glancing at the three sheathed blades he carried with him...they didn't look like foils to her.

Hook laughed and tossed one to her, "There you go lass, an assurance that I'll not forget my manners."

She caught the blade easily, and she had to admit it made her feel a little better.

When they reached the door Emma rolled her eyes.

"You must be new around here. This is New York, the rooftop access is always locked. They even have a pretty good lock..." She muttered, hoping Henry wouldn't ask how she knew that. Hook just smiled and tossed her the dismantled lock. Emma glanced down at it in surprise. Suddenly realization dawned on her, "Are you one of the building managers?"

"Not quite, luv. Now, up we go, ladies first."

"Not happening, You're wearing a hook and two swords, I'm not letting you out of my sight."

He smirked, "I would despair if you did." He had to admit this was fun. It was most enjoyable to watch the look of confusion and familiarity flicker through her eyes every time he accosted her with a familiar phrase.

Clearly she didn't like that one anymore than she had the first time he tried it. He proceeded to quickly climb the stairs before she remembered that she too was armed and tried to cut out his tongue.

Reaching the top Henry bounced excitedly towards the rails to see the view but Hook grabbed the back of his shirt. "Not so fast, little lad. I've come too far to be murdered by your mother if you take a tumble." He unsheathed one of the cutlasses and held it out which diverted Henry's attention from the rails. "Now this I've dulled for today, but it'll still cut you if your not careful."

Henry took the blade and then nearly dropped it. "It's heavier than it looks," he said in surprise.

"That it is, mate. So you'll need to practice to get used to it." Emma unsheathed hers as well and was looking it over carefully.

Hook kept his focus on Henry, letting Emma work on her own. "This blade is only sharpened on one side, so you must always angle it towards your foe."

Henry nodded, swinging it around clumsily with a few upward slashes.

"Good, lad, but take advantage of the weight. A downward slash will carry more force than an upward one."

Turning rapidly towards Emma with his own cutlass she automatically brought hers up to block him. Her muscles already knew that blade, even if her mind did not.

"I think you've done this before, lass" He told her retreating a bit.

She shook her head, but as he watched muscle memory kicked in and she started moving in some of the drills he had taught her. He turned away so she wouldn't see him grinning. This gave him hope that he wasn't deluding himself. The memories were not gone, just hidden, buried somewhere where she couldn't yet reach them.

After a couple hours of practicing they were making good progress. Emma still wasn't as confident as she had been, because while her body remembered this, in her mind it was the first time.

"How did you learn all this?" Emma asked him.

"Royal Navy, and a few hundred years of practice."

"I'm not sure which of those I find less believable."

"Well, you've never met a 300 year old naval officer turned pirate, so I don't see how you could possibly know if I look like one."

"You're insane."

"Perhaps I am."

Without any warning he raised his blade to her again, and she blocked. She attacked next and Henry cheered her on. Hook, watched Emma carefully as they circled, watching for the slight movements that gave away a novices attack. She had never been taught properly to avoid those little signals, they would have to work on that. The blades clashed and Emma seemed to fall into a rhythm with Hook. He wondered briefly if she remembered how to pull a strike and determined it was best not to give her the chance. Shouldn't be too hard, after all she had only won last time because she had happened to fall right on top of the bloody compass. And he had been a little distracted... The Royal Navy and 300 years of practice and she knocked him out with the item that she had taken from him. Infuriating lass.

"Keep your hand back, Swan," Hook warned as her free hand got a little too close to the action for his taste. "Trust me, the hook is not all it's cracked up to be." He caught her blade with his Hook and trapped it above their heads, "though it has it's uses."

He had barely finished the sentence before all the air was knocked out of him as she kicked him back and yanked the blade loose. He coughed trying to get his breath back.

"All that practice and you didn't see that coming? Some pirate." Emma scoffed.

"Ow, lovies got teeth. You'd make a hell of a pirate."

The blades clashed again when suddenly there was a red flash and the smell of blood. Her free hand had been in the way again, bloody hell. He unceremoniously dropped his weapon and dove forward to see if she was alright, before freezing as Emma brought her blade to his throat.

"I win," she said simply.

Hook's eyes widened in amazement. He glanced down at her bleeding hand and then up at her again. "You did that on purpose."

"Aye," she mocked, without removing the weapon from his throat.

"You are bloody brilliant," He cried. "Will you marry me?"

She laughed and released him, "Maybe some other time, Henry has to get to school."

"I'll hold you to it, luv." He teased, reaching for her hand. "Let me see that." He uncorked his rum flask, to waste rum on this woman for the second time but she flinched, pulling her hand away before he could do so.

"Why did you flinch," he asked in astonishment. The first time she hadn't.

"Because I don't trust you." She said.

"Ah, well I suppose there are easier ways to clean that than rum."

"No kidding." She called Henry and they headed for the stairs.

"Thanks for the lesson." Henry told him, "Sorry my mom beat you up."

"Wouldn't be the first time, lad," he mumbled. Fortunately Emma didn't appear to be listening.

"Do you still want to practice tomorrow?" Henry asked.

"It's not me you need to be convincing."

"I'm on it. Operation Swashbuckler is a go."

* * *

Operation Swashbuckler must have been a success because Emma and Henry showed up at his door before school several more times that week. It occurred to Hook that if she didn't have Henry he would be fighting a losing battle. Henry gave her an excuse to see him. Without that, Hook suspected that she would have either ignored him or killed him by now.

It was still the middle of the night, at the moment ,and sleep eluded him. It was near torture, knowing that he had come so far, was now so close and yet he couldn't really talk to her. They danced, flirted and teased just like the first day when they were enemies. He wanted to explain to her that he was in something of a hurry, that her parents needed her, everyone needed her. He wanted to tell her that he'd kept his promise. He didn't sleep much, and he drank hot chocolate with cinnamon religiously, because that was the taste on her lips during his futile attempt at curse-breaker extraordinaire. He paced in circles, thinking... thinking... but really just putting off the inevitable point at which he slams his hook into the wall and drinks himself into a stupor. (Though he, admittedly, hadn't a thorough understanding of what the man had meant when he explained the deposit, he had a feeling he wasn't getting it back.) Taking a swig of his chosen poison he heard a sound from the door. Probably a drunk trying to get into the wrong apartment. They'd figure it out eventually.

Then there was a louder knock. No one ever knocked on his door but the Lady Swan. Hardly daring to hope, he opened the door. There she was, wearing those oddly colored sleeping clothes that made her look so soft. Her eyes were bright and she looked at him without smirking for the first time since he had entered this world.

"You found me." _Could this mean..._

"Does that surprise you?"

"Hook." Then she was in his arms again, finally, with tears on her cheeks and his name on her lips. He kissed her again a delirium of cinnamon and chocolate and this time she did not pull away.

And that was where the dream always ended. He leaped out of bed with a curse and put another hole in his wall.


	4. Safe Harbor

3:30 AM. She didn't add cinnamon this time. She skipped it every once in a while. Made it taste better the next time. Strange, but what the hell. Bizarre things buzzed around in her head again tonight keeping her awake. She paced in the kitchen until Henry poked his head in about three and asked if she was ok. She told him that she woke up wanting chocolate and he laughed at her and went back to sleep. She didn't really want chocolate, she wanted rum, and that made her more than a little uncomfortable. If she kept pacing she was going to wake Henry again. She slipped out of the room into the hallway so that she could pace to her heart's content without waking her son. She stuck to the other side of the hall; tried to avoid noticing that his room was just there.

The man was insane. He either thought he was a 300 year old Disney villain, was an obsessive actor who potentially went so far as to cut off his arm for a part, or maybe he was just your standard stalker creep. Whatever the truth was it was unacceptable for her to be so aware that his room was... just there. She had a son, and Henry was her whole world. If she ever found someone it needed to be someone who would protect her son, he needed to be as obsessed with Henry as she was - and that's why alone was just fine. Still, she was drawn to him, despite everything rational telling her he was insane there was this little part of her that trusted him. She couldn't trust anyone, and yet her instincts were telling her that she could trust him. She told herself that it was just because she couldn't sleep... it was throwing off her instincts. But even her dreams seemed to revolve around things that didn't make any sense. This man, who she hardly knew, spoke to her in her dreams. So she told herself that it was perfectly normal for things from your life to take bizarre form in your dreams. That didn't explain all the others. A sweet looking woman with a pixie cut and a kind-faced man with brown hair. She had never seen them, but suddenly they invaded her dreams every night.

This is absurd. She walked determinedly back to her rooms, she needed sleep, badly. Suddenly she hears a crash from down the hall, her heart clenches as she wonders if she left her apartment door unlocked. She hadn't though and she unlocks it grabbing her gun from the table inside. Walking down the hall she hears another crash. From _his _rooms. She briefly considers just turning around but then she hears yelling. She tries the door expecting it to be locked but it swings open. She enters cautiously, gun pointed inside.

"Hook!?" She calls, "What the hell is going on in here."

His voice calls out from the bedroom, "Ah, My Swan appears, my beautiful specter. Come to torment me until cruel dawn?" His voice is cheery but there is a hint of madness in his tone that makes Emma keep her weapon trained on the door, wondering if he was having some sort of an episode. He emerges from the room with a smile and his dark clothing is covered with white dust that looked like...drywall? He sees her gun raised and cocks his head at her appraisingly. "Interesting, well variety's the very spice of life: or so say the poets-" He advances, then stops as she steps back the weapon still trained on him.

"If you have lost your mind, I will shoot you and lose no sleep over it." She says.

He laughs at some unknown joke than looks her over once more "Yes, I suppose you would. Not a specter then?... In that case, bloody hell Swan, I thought we were past these murderous intents."

"What are you doing in here?"

"I feel the need to point out that you are in my room wielding a weapon. What is it that you're doing here?"

"It sounded like you were being attacked...or attacking someone. Why was your door unlocked?"

"Slipped my mind."

"This is New York!"

"That doesn't concern me. I'm the villain remember, I have a hook for a hand, and all that..." there is a resignation in his voice that finally makes her lower the gun. He paused for a moment before continuing cheekily "I find it most fascinating that it concerns you, though"

There is silence for a moment as Emma stares dumbstruck. "And the crashing? Do I need to check the closets for some suckers kidnapped wife?" she says with a small laugh.

Fortunately she had turned to look towards the bedroom, not paying attention to his face. He had visibly flinched at the comment. It was this that finally removed any last doubt that he was awake. He retreated to dreams as a balm, his mind would not be so cruel as to throw such barbs at him. Taking a steadying breath so his voice won't shake he tells her "Couldn't sleep, decided to redecorate... but you are welcome to explore my bedroom whenever you like, Luv."

"Should you be...I don't know, on medication of some kind..."

"I am," He commented, raising his flask to his lips, saying: "Here's to you, luv."

"Bad dream?" She asks quietly, "I've had them too, but you can't let yourself drown in them -"

"I've never been afraid of drowning, darling, bad for business." He paused, then held out his flask to her, "You look like you could use a drink too."

"Is rum your solution to everything?" He smiles, that's the first time she's done that...

"It certainly doesn't hurt."

She opens her mouth to retort then stops herself. "What the hell," she says taking it and finally holstering the gun. "I was starting to think your head would fall off if you ever removed that ridiculous coat." She says, indicating where it lay discarded over a chair. The apartment as surprisingly bare, now that she looked around. Standard stock furniture. The only indicator that he lived here was the discarded coat.

He approached while she was surveying the room, and when she glances back towards him he is suddenly uncomfortably close before he whispers, "Spend a lot of time contemplating disrobing me, Swan?"

She rolled her eyes and slipped away from him. He follows but keeps his distance leaning against the wall.

"I'm wining you over, I can feel it."

"Why do you keep doing that?" Emma suddenly bursts out.

"What's that, darling?" Hook asks, watching her intently.

"Never mind, I don't know why I said that, I'm just tired."

He can't breathe, managing only to say: "Please, Emma." She looks up, surprised at the earnestness in his voice. There is a softness in his eyes where the smirk usually resides. "Why did you say that?"

She looks confused for a moment before she shrugs, "Flirting, I guess. Why do you keep flirting." She watches in confusion as his eyes dim and his shoulders sag.

"Ah, that. Well apparently I'm an optimist these days."

"Please, you couldn't handle it."

Hook's head shot up and he was glad he was leaning against the wall because, bloody hell, he was trembling. It wasn't right, though. It wasn't his Emma. There was no fire, no spark, no bloody defiance in her eyes. It was just a passing comment. She was entirely unaware that she had just impaled him through the heart. This woman had absolutely no idea what effect she could have on him, how she had managed to rip out his heart and stomp on it twice in a single conversation without even trying. He clenched his hand into a fist and closed his eyes. When he opened his eyes again Emma had moved closer to him. "Hey, are you ok?" He couldn't be this close to her. Not while his entire being was screaming at him to kiss her but she ... wasn't herself_._

"Fine, lass." he said.

"There it is again."

He looked up.

"Why do you call me lass, and luv, and Swan, no one calls me Swan. And how did I know that if I let you cut my hand, you would drop your sword, I don't know you well enough to know that. And that sword, and the dreams. It all just feels so..."

"Familiar?" he finishes.

She looked up in silent confusion.

"Dreams? ... Emma, I need to show you something."

He moves towards the bedroom but looks back over his shoulder. The lost girl in her eyes looks ready to run. "Please, Emma, wait for me. You need to see this." Then he disappeared into the room.

She heard him moving around in the room and suddenly she wanted to bolt. _This is absurd. I don't know this man, I'm here in the middle of the night, my son is alone down the hall...I should..._

"Just a moment, Emma, trust me," he calls to her, somehow knowing that she was ready to bolt.

Why should she, and yet she stays. Hook reappears a few seconds later with a single piece of paper in his hand. After all his eagerness, now he holds back.

"What's going on, Hook?"

He hesitates a moment longer eyes studying the paper in his hand carefully.

"You said you wanted to show me something, so show me."

"As you wish." He said, handing over the paper.

At first she thought it was a black and white photograph, but upon closer inspection she saw it was a couple of detailed sketches.

The first was a group that looked like a family hugging each other tightly. When she looked closer, she noticed that the woman was the one with the pixie cut from her dream. But she was crying, and clinging tightly to the others. The man was familiar too. He wasn't crying, but his face betrayed a broken heart as he held onto his family. The emotion on their faces was so poignant that she almost couldn't look away. Then she noticed that the boy looked very much like Henry, though the picture did not show his face. The woman too, though buried in the middle of the group looked very much like her. If there was any question about who the woman in the first picture was, it was clarified by the second. The second was clearly a drawing of Emma. She looked sad and determined and there was a single word written in calligraphy script below the image.

'Good'

She stared in fascination at the drawings for a few minutes before abruptly remembering who had given them to her.

She backed away from Hook, yelling at him: "Who are these people... why do you have..." Her voice died back and she finished with a confused "How?"

"They're the people from your dream, aren't they?" Hook asked her.

"How did you know? Why do you have a drawing of me with them?"

"I have not told you a lie, Swan. These drawings are of the last time I saw you. You're family does need you, and Henry, back." He paused but before she could protest continued. "Was I there? In the dreams?"

"Yes" She admits quietly backing away from him.

"Please, Swan, do me a favor before you go."

She should leave, she owes this man nothing, and he had slipped firmly into stalker territory.

"The dreams, can you remember how they made you feel. You don't have to say anything, just think about them."

She nods, not even sure why.

"I'm going to kiss you again." He tells her.

She backs away another couple steps but this time he follows her. "Look at me Emma. I know you can tell when I am lying, so please, just look at me. I will not do anything to harm you or your son. Do as I ask for just a few moments and I will finish telling you all about those people in your dreams. Whatever you want to know, you'll know if I'm lying. Just one kiss, and if you still want to leave you can call those cops you are always threatening me with."

Emma looked own at the drawing again, the crying woman and broken-hearted man. She had to know who they were, had to know why they were in her mind. She nodded very slightly.

"Close your eyes Emma, and think of those dreams. Cling to them, tight as you can. Pretend they are real, and try to remember how they made you feel."

She closed her eyes, trying to remember the snatches of conversations and situations from her dreams. He was still talking to her, mumbling softly in a surreal overlay as she tried to focus on the dreams. "Her name is Snow, his... well you called him David. You called me Hook then, too, but I always wished you would use my real name. We went together to a dangerous place to find your son. I kissed you once before there, actually you were a bit more accommodating then, you kissed me. You told me it was to thank me, for protecting your family, but I didn't believe you. I still dream of that kiss, Emma, do you?"

Her lips partly slightly and he prayed that was an affirmation. He kissed her gently this time, hoping against hope that she would not pull away. Emma tasted rum again, and that something else...salt... the ocean. She was kissing a stranger that tasted like the ocean. Then suddenly, the pieces of the memories began to weave themselves together. The ocean in a storm on a ship. Hook's ship...but they were attacked. They started a storm. She had stopped it by diving into the water and her father had saved her. She pulled away from Hook suddenly, caught up in the memory. Her father, and mother. They were all there, with her and Hook to save Henry.

She looked up at Hook in amazement. He had his eyes closed. When he opened them she saw his eyes unguarded for perhaps the first time since they had met. Her heart jumped into her throat at the sight of the anguish he so carefully hid there.

"I'm sorry, Swan-"

"Killian?" She said it questioningly, testing the name on her lips, strange after calling him Hook for so long.

Hope fluttered to life before agony bit through him again. He must have told her, he tried to remember if he had let it slip during his monologue.

"Killian, you're losing your touch." She watched in fascination as he rebuilt the walls over his eyes and replaced the pain with a neutral disinterested expression. "It took you over a year to find me?"

Finally his face lit up. "Emma? Do you remember?...please, Emma." Hook tried desperately to crush the hope, before she could do it for him.

"You couldn't handle it." Her fire was back, the spark that was all Emma Swan. He pulled her into him, so tightly she could barely breathe. His Emma was back in his arms. He knew he should let her go but he couldn't. Couldn't risk that this was all a dream or that when he pulled back she would be laughing at him and saying he really was insane.

Then suddenly his heart sank. She was laughing. He pulled away to arms distance

"What is it Emma?" He asked, quite certain that the next thing she said might just shatter him.

"I beat you with your own weapon, AGAIN, and your response is a proposal? and you showed up at breakfast ... kicked you in the -" she cut herself off by laughing even harder.

Relief flooded through him and he laughed too. "All right, lass, laugh all you want. He took a step closer backing Emma towards the wall "but there's something that you aren't remembering," he whispered in her ear.

"What's that?" She asked, finally calming herself.

He kissed her again savoring the taste of chocolate and rum, no cinnamon this time. Also no agonizing blows to the midsection, always a bonus. Instead she put her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Pulling away just a bit he whispered "it worked."

"It did." She sighed, "but what about Henry."

"Snow told me true loves kiss worked once before for Henry." He backed away, releasing her from the wall. "Now that you remember, you should be able to do your whole savior thing."

They walked back to Emma's rooms but she paused before pushing in Henry's door. Coming back into the main room she commented; "There's still hours to sunrise. It'd be a shame to wake him before-" She couldn't finish the sentence before she was silenced by Hook's lips on hers once more. Killian's lips, she mentally corrected, that was going to take some getting used to.

* * *

Thanks for reading, let me know what you think!

Also kudos to Lioness's Heart, because I went back and re-read her story Honesty ( s/5931097/1/Honesty) and realized that one of Hooks comments was inadvertently inspired by something I read there.


	5. Secrets

**AN: I thought they needed a slightly more satisfying reunion so I added a bit more detail to that scene. Enjoy.**

"Thank God, do you have any idea how long three hundred and eighty-nine days are" He grumbled, breaking off the kiss and extending his hand out against the wall so he could look at her better.

"Didn't realize you were sentimental," she teased, slipping out of his grip and dropping onto the couch. He sat next to her, pulling her back into his arms as he spoke.

"Sentimental doesn't even begin to cover it. My first love lasted for over three centuries, Emma. I fully intend on holding onto my last love until the day I die. Speaking of which, we need to have a conversation about your reckless hero tendencies, I won't let you slip out of our agreement early."

She tensed up a bit and Hook kissed the back of her neck. "This doesn't get to frighten you anymore, lass. You had your memories restored by a kiss, if that doesn't convince you this is real ..."

She turned her head and cut him off with a kiss. "I know, it's habit though..." she said with a smile, "but I'm not afraid."

"Of course you're not, love. You're too brave for your own good. I however am quite terrified."

She tried to pull away but he would not release her, so she settled for looking up at him "Is the fearsome Captain Hook afraid of a little dalliance?" She said teasingly, hoping he wouldn't see the nervousness in her eyes.

He laughed. "This is no Dalliance, darling, true love is much more frightening." He held her tighter pausing for a moment. "I'm going to tell you a secret, Swan, one I've been afraid to tell anyone before."

Emma immediately thought of his words in the echo cave. He seemed to sense her train of thought and continued; "Yes, but that was only the beginning." Taking a deep breath he continued. "I am a broken man, Swan, I held my heart together with ice for centuries and when that was gone all that remained was a broken thing held together by vengeance and pitch. You've replaced the vengeance with hope, but it's still a poor offering."

She smiled reassuringly, "I'm not exactly the picture of put-together either, Killian." She looked up into his sad eyes and then asked "Would you tell me about them? Liam and Milah?"

His muscles stiffened and she immediately regretted her request.

"I'm sorry Killian, it's none of my business-"

He looked down at her for a moment before finally speaking. "Liam was everything, the only family that I had left.". He told her about Liam and the Kings betrayal. His muscles trembled when he described Liam's burial at sea and Emma just stroked tiny comforting patterns on the back of his hand. He filled in the blanks for her and she expected to feel some jealousy as he described Milah, the love that had occupied his heart and mind for so long . And he appeared to be worried about the same thing. He began to gloss over their time together and glanced nervously down at her as he spoke.

"Don't do that," she said, taking his arm and lifting it to her face examining his tattoo carefully. Finally she raised it to her lips and kissed it gently. He watched her intently struck dumb for a moment by the simple kindness of the action. He continued eventually holding her tightly to him as he described their fateful docking and conflict with the dark one. His tears for Milah had run out centuries ago but as he described her death he pulled Emma closer, burying his head in the crook of her neck. He was surprised when he felt dampness on his cheeks, it had been so long since he had cried for her; but he quickly realized the tears were not his. Instead he discovered that Emma cried for him.

"Thank you, Killian," she told him gently. He nodded and kissed the tears away in amazement. How many years had it been since someone had cried for him? He couldn't remember for sure if anyone ever had.

Eventually the tears quieted and he shifted her slightly so he could see her face. "I've told you all this for a very important reason, and I need you to understand."

She nods for him to continue, still not trusting her voice.

"I'm telling you this because I am begging you not to be reckless with your life when we return to the Enchanted Forrest. Please, no ...hero stuff without telling me what you're doing."

This was a side to Killian that Emma had never seen and she understood, too well. "You know I can't promise to stay in a padded room, Killian?" She says with a small smile.

"Course not, love, but from now on I'm your backup, you're right hand so-to-speak." He smiled lightly but then his face became serious again. "You have to understand now that I couldn't survive losing you."

"I can promise,however, that I won't ever leave you behind again." Emma told him and Killian beamed warming her from the inside out. She suddenly realized she wanted to make him beam like that again, as often as possible preferably, so she smiled and kissed his cheek before whispering in his ear: "Now it's my turn to tell you a secret." Before she could finish he shifted slightly and turned her around so that she was seated on his lap facing him."

"I do love secrets, so very...revealing" He smirked at the last word letting his eyes travel over her face and then ...elsewhere.

She bit her lip gently determined to keep focused. Leaning forward again she brushed her lips against his ear gently: "are you ready?" She asked teasingly.

"God, Swan," he growled, "you have no idea..."

She smiled kissing his ear, then his cheek and lips as she worked her way to his other ear. "I'm in love with a devilishly handsome reformed pirate."

With a groan he pushed her off of him to the other side of the couch pressing into her and making her eyes flutter closed, "Not that reformed," he growled, but his voice softened as he covered her face and neck with a trail of kisses. "And I'm in love with you, Swan. You have my heart, whatever is left of it is yours."

"About bloody time." she teased.

"I do believe that's my line."

"I bet I can make you forgive me," she said allowing a small moan to escape her lips as he pressed into her. Then she pushed him away closing her eyes to regain focus, "but not now," she sighed.

He kissed her neck again, "no time like the present," he mutters into her neck.

She moaned but pushed him away again retreating to the other side of the couch. Killian sighs in frustration muttering "bloody tease," with a smile as he sits next to her again.

"All right, my love, I shall remember to be a gentleman this night." He wraps his arms around her again and kisses her ear muttering "but I can make no such promise for the next time I get you alone when your son is not in the next room."

They stayed contentedly in each others arms until daylight began to break through the windows and Emma could wait no longer for Henry to wake. Hook waited against the door while Emma woke Henry with a kiss on the forehead. After a moment he grinned widely. I told you he was a real pirate!"

"Smart lad," Hook said, "now can we go home?"

* * *

**Thanks for reading, let me know what you think! I haven't really decided if this is done yet, or if I'll follow them home...**


	6. Sailing Home

**AN: As you wish.**

**apologies, couldn't resist the above. **

* * *

Home.

Home. New York had never really been home. Henry was home. New York was just where they lived. It always felt incomplete though. All the magic in the world and she still knew it wasn't right. It could take her memories...but it could never truly feel right.

Hook... Killian was watching her carefully. He knew, of course, what effect that word would have on her.

Henry was oblivious. Practically bounding with excitement. "Do you have the ship, can I drive the ship?"

Killian laughed at Henry's exuberance but then put on a stern look. "Magical amnesia is no longer an excuse, lad."

"I meant steer...Mom took me once before we moved to New York, but it had a motor and a slide..." He drifted off, confusion on his features.

"I don't think I did, kid, sorry." Emma said, her look of confusion mirroring his own.

Killian practically winced. He knew what was coming next. She was thinking about all of the other memories that weren't real, she would trace them back until it was brought into focus.

There it was.

A flash of pain. A tightening of the jaw.

She remembered giving Henry up. He wanted to hold her... that wasn't what she needed. He glanced sideways at Henry, he was still caught up in the possibility of sailing again. "I'll make you a deal lad. You show me where your mother is ticklish and I'll let you... 'drive' the ship."

Henry bolted to Emma's side and soon both tumbled over in peals of laughter.

"Alright, enough enough," Emma cried, "Aren't we supposed to be saving the world or something!"

"Too true," Hook agreed, "and you've got yourself a commission, lad"

Henry jumped to his feet and pulled a suitcase out. "Well hurry up," he said when they just watched him.

Emma nodded and she and Killian retreated into the hallway.

"I saw that, Hook. It's no fair reading me like that."

"Can't help it, love." He said smirking as she walked back towards her bedroom to pack. "Truly, it must be a burden to be adored by a man who knows what you need before you do."

She smiled and pushed open the door, pulling a bag out of her closet before realizing that Hook hadn't followed her. She turned back to the door where he has leaning easily against the wall in the hallway.

"What are you doing?"

"Observing."

"Not helping?"

"I wasn't sure if it would be ... proper... to"

Emma laughed. "Really? Captain Innuendo is nervous about the impropriety of entering my bedroom? Come on in, what's gotten into you?"

"Well. There was some rather ... " he coughed "passionate advice given me by your father. It turns out I'm rather fond of my remaining limbs. So you are stuck with a gentleman, my swan."

"Really? Didn't seem to occur to you last night," she mumbled eyebrows raised, "If I recall, you said..."

"I admit you are most distracting ." He was in the room now, proving quite distracting himself. "However tempted I might be..." He cupped her cheek and then took one step closer. "...and however, skilled I may be with the one hand..." He let his good hand press her into him gently. "It would be ... counterproductive to lose the one I have."

"Maybe I'll take it myself if you continue to be such an incorrigible flirt," Emma grumbled.

"Like I said, darling, counterproductive."

She grinned and turned away. Packing didn't take long at all. Emma was used to living on the move and despite having been in the apartment for a year, it hadn't felt like home. They had few personal belongings to gather and as much as she may have wanted to bring the hot chocolate maker...some things just weren't practical in the enchanted forrest. Those things went into storage and in less than a day her life was uprooted from New York.

"What are we up against this time?" She wondered aloud as they walked toward the harbor.

"Evil witch, horrendous violent flying demons, ogres ...etcetera."

"So pretty much a normal Tuesday."

"Aye, lass."

"How are we getting back."

"That would be why it took so long. The fairy may have her quirks and one of them is no running off on adventures without an exit strategy. So a few conversations with the mad hatter and a bit of pixie dust and thus; your transportation was procured."

"Why do I have a feeling you are oversimplifying things a touch."

"Well it did take a year... I suppose I may have skimmed over some of the details."

"So what, we just pop through a portal and land on my parents door step."

"Not quite so simple, lass. Portals are funny things. Not so easy to steer through and you haven't a lot of control where you land. I got bloody lucky when I arrived here. I may not have landed on your doorstep but at least I landed in water."

"Are you saying that for all we know we may drop right into this evil witches castle."

"Technically no, I didn't say that," he said with a smirk.

"So what happens if we land in the middle of a forrest or on the witches doorstep?" Henry asks nervously.

"Then we may get to go camping for a little longer than is ideal."

They had reached the ship, at least Emma assumed so, because it was hidden as it had been in Storybrook. Hook led the way on board and nervous energy made Emma pace.

"He's safe here Hook," she whispered while Henry explored the ship.

Hook took her hand. "I'll get him home, Emma. I swear if it's the last thing I do, your boy will be safe."

He paused, "Do you not wish to return, Swan? I won't make you if the risk is too-"

"Let's go home, Hook."

"Aye Aye, Captain."

He kissed her gently and hands her a compass. The compass, she notes. "Keep this with you if you wish, a reminder that we'll always find each other.

Her mouth dropped open. "Ready to go, first mate?" Killian called over to Henry before she could speak.

"Aye!" Henry called back.

They set sail towards open water. (The inhabitants of New York are not accustomed to large swirling vortices, after all).

Killian and Henry took the wheel, Emma stood out on the bow looking out over the water. Home. She was going home.

When they reached open water, Emma tossed the hat, glowing an odd green (probably something to do with the pixie dust out over the side. An annoyingly familiar vortex swirled in the water.

"Hold tight, Emma!" Killian called from the wheel and she grabbed onto the rigging. Henry still held the wheel but Hook was holding it too, doing most of the work now. With a pitch, the ship plummeted into the vortex.

There was a crash, a swirling wind... a violent lurch and then a heartbreaking crack as the ship landed (none to gently) on what Hook knew for certain was not water. _Damn_. Hook clasped Henry to himself tightly as the lurch threw them both to the deck.

"You all right lad?" Hook asked.

"Yeah...Hook, where's my mom?"

Ice clenched in his stomach as he looked up towards the bow partially shrouded in thick fog and trees from where they had landed. Henry jumped up to run to the bow but Hook grabbed him, pulling him back with a jerk.

"You can't go over there Henry." He said, voice tight with pain.

"Why, it's foggy, we just can't see her."

"Aye lad, it is. Only on that side of the ship. That is the infinite forrest. We landed just outside, your mother... didn't."

Henry collapsed against Hook, tears streaming down his face as he remembered the story from his book. The infinite forrest, where Hansel and Gretel wander for eternity because the forrest goes on forever.

"We have to go after her, Hook, we can't just leave her there." Henry was standing again, pulling against Hook in an attempt to go after Emma.

"We can't lad, we'd get lost too and we'd have no way back out. There's nothing we can do." His voice broke, but Henry was too caught up in his own pain to notice.

Henry fought him viciously but Hook was on autopilot, eventually just throwing the boy over his shoulder and moving away from the gloomy fog.

"We can't leave her, please, we can't leave her." Henry is sobbing and Hook wants nothing more than to sob with him. She should be here, with her boy, but she isn't. He told her that he couldn't survive losing her, but she had left him no choice. He can't fall apart this time, he is responsible for Henry now. If he were alone he would have entered the forest without a second thought. Would have spent eternity in a futile effort to find her. He had nothing else to lose... Would he have eternity, or just the rest of his life?

He shuts everything down. He can't afford to think about that, can't risk the temptation to put Henry down and just run into the fog. Run and never stop running until he finds her or something finds him.

"We can't stay here either, Henry, the boundaries shift, if we stay too close it might envelop us too. I promised her you would get home lad, and you will get home.

* * *

**AN: Leave a review, I love hearing what people think... I suspect you won't be very happy with me for letting them stay together for less than a single chapter... **

**Sorry. Kind of. (Not really.) I swear I don't actually have control of the plot, occasionally my muse just turns into a jerk and stuff like this happens :P **


	7. Unexpected Journey

Henry fought Hook every step of the way as they retreated from the destroyed ship, calling him a coward and pleading for him not to abandon his mom. Finally Hook set Henry down a safe distance from the fog, keeping a tight grasp on his arm in case he tried to bolt again.

"Henry, look at me," Hook ordered, infusing his voice with a confidence he couldn't begin to feel right now.

The boy did so, not even bothering to hide the trademark charming-family-glare. He was his mother's son, after all.

"You have to promise me you won't go in there."

"You want us to abandon her."

"That's the last thing I want, Henry. The last thing in all the world. But we can't find your mother by stumbling blindly into an endless forest. She's not waiting just on the other side of the trees; she could be anywhere... We could spend our whole lives looking and never come anywhere remotely close to wherever she is now."

"So that's it. We just give up?" Henry challenged.

"Never. But until we have a plan the only thing that matters to me is keeping you safe. If...When we get her back she would kill me if I let anything happen to you, do you understand, mate?"

"She's alone in there," Henry whimpered, and it would have broken Killian's heart if there was anything left of it.

"Your mom is a superhero, remember, you told me that. A walk in an endless forest is like a bloody vacation to a superhero."

Henry smiled just a little bit.

"I'm waiting on your word, lad. Your word that you will help me keep you safe until we get her back. From now on there's one rule. Stay close and If I tell you to run you run like hell, understand?"

"Technically that's..."

"Henry."

"Fine, Hook."

"Good lad, don't you forget that. A man's word is the most valuable thing he has."

"Do we have to leave right away?" Henry asked. "What if she...gets free somehow."

Hook grimaced, and he could tell even Henry, the truest believer did not think that was likely. "We'll stay the night here, mate, then we have to get you back to your family."

"Should I ... gather wood or something?" Henry asked. He needed to do something ... a task to distract him.

"I'm afraid we can't have a fire tonight. If we are anywhere close to where I think we are ... fire would draw some nasty beasties. But we should get water. You stay right here. I'm going to get some supplies from this side of the ship."

"I'm coming with you."

"All right, lad."

They gathered as many supplies as they dared from the portion of the ship that was not immersed in fog, fortunately the captain's quarters and some of the supply stores were in the stern. Then they retreated back to their campsite and scoured the area for water. It wasn't long before Henry caught the sound of water and they were able to replenish their supplies. It was nearly dark before they returned to camp. Hook had laid out a bedroll for Henry before sitting down against a tree facing the fog.

"Aren't you going to sleep?" Henry asked, clearly wide awake himself.

"No. Someone has got to watch for Emma... and the flying monkeys."

"Is that why we couldn't have a fire?"

"Aye, they're nasty creatures... are you cold?"

"A little, but I don't think it's the weather."

"Perceptive lad," Hook mumbled.

After a while Henry stood, shedding the bedroll and moving to sit next to Hook. "Sorry I called you a coward." Henry admitted, voice trembling. Hook sat up and took off his coat, draping it over the boys shoulders and surprising himself by pulling Henry close.

"I know." Hook was even more surprised when the boy did not pull away.

"You're going to get her back, right?" Henry finally asked.

"I have to. Now get some sleep... I'll be right here."

Henry didn't object, just leaning back down against Hook's shoulder and staring towards the woods. Neither of them would sleep much that night.

* * *

The last thing she remembered was watching Hook grab ahold of Henry as they were all thrown to the deck of the ship. She was thrown backwards toward the bow, with a sickening lurch. Emma clung to the rigging, which she had wrapped around her wrist twice, desperately trying to right herself and hoping that she wasn't going to break her arm in the process. Suddenly the ropes were gone. She didn't think that she had let them go, but they suddenly slipped through her hands like sand. When she looked up Henry was gone, Hook was gone, the whole ship was gone. There was nothing but trees in any direction. This didn't look like the enchanted forest to her.

She realized she must have been thrown from the ship, it couldn't be far. She wandered in the direction she thought she may have come from calling Henry's name until her voice was hoarse and weak. Finally rationality kicked in and it occurred to her that drawing attention to herself might not be in her best interest. She began to climb a tree, breaking above the tree line she looked around. The Jolly Rodger was no canoe...she should be able to see the sails rising up above the tree line...but when she reached the top there was nothing in any direction. Just trees, and fog, and more trees. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself more from nerves than chill. She told herself Henry was with Hook. He had to be. They were together at the helm, she watched Hook grab him before the crash...they had to be together. Henry couldn't be alone.

She was alone. She should walk but as she looked out into the nondescript surroundings in every direction it seemed pointless. Where would she go. Eventually she settled on wandering in the direction of what sounded like water in the distance. She walked some little distance and eventually reached a small river. In her haste to reach it she managed to trip and scrape her hand bloody on a stone on the bank. Washing it off and drinking a little she began to follow the river. It had to go somewhere. Someone must be living near the river.

She walked for hours upstream. It must have been hours. At least it seemed like hours, but there was no way to tell how much time had passed. The fog obscured the sun leaving the landscape an unchanging twilight everywhere... Then she saw something horrifying and terror pressed in on her.

A bloody rock, with an Emma sized hand print in dried blood. She hadn't deviated from the river and here she was again on the exact spot she had hurt herself so many hours ago. She climbed another tree (the same one?) and lodged herself into its branches. She wouldn't sleep, but there was obviously no point in walking. At least she was safer up here. Perhaps.

She clasped at the compass Hook had given her, but it spun aimlessly in this place, utterly useless for anything but to give her some fleeting comfort.

She would feel better in the morning. She would make a plan in the morning. If only she knew how to tell when it was morning.

* * *

Hook kept his arms tight around Henry who finally dozed off long after the moon reached her peak. Henry was his anchor through the night. Whenever the impulse to run into the fog became too strong he tightened his grip on the boy. He would not leave Henry alone here on the edge of oblivion.

She was separated from her family, from Henry. Regret tore at his heart. He hadn't been able to leave her in the world without magic, reasoned that she would be better off with her family. Maybe even with him. Instead he had ripped her away from the only family she had left. The infinite bloody forrest. Was he really such a villain that everything he touched was destroyed? He remembered Regina's words of a lifetime ago.

_Villains__ don't get happy endings. _

But what of Emma ... she deserved a happy ending. How could fate allow her to be left alone, after she had come so far, been through so much?

The night dragged on and Hook became chilled. Henry was right though, it probably had little to do with weather. His leather coat was snuggly wrapped around the boy in his arms, but Hook would not wake him for all the world... least of all for his coat. He wished Henry would stay asleep, safe and protected from the knowledge of what had happened to his mother. Unfortunately a faint cry in the distance told him their peace would not last. The flying monkeys were coming. It must be nearly dawn, they were most active at dawn and dusk, leftover behavior from their more natural past. The sounds grew louder and Hook reluctantly shook Henry awake.

"Time to wake, boy, come on."

"Did she..." Henry asked

Hook shook his head sadly. "We're about to have some company, lad. Stay down and let me handle them. Take this just in case." He handed Henry a dagger and drew his own blade.

With their terrible screeches several of the creatures descended on the clearing.

He almost enjoyed the fight. Who was he kidding, it was a bloody relief. He relished it with a dark pleasure that reminded him a little too much of his days seeking the crocodile. The monkeys never had a chance.

"Can we stay," Henry asked, when the last of the beasts had fallen, "just a while longer, she has to come out."

"Sorry, lad. You remember what I told you about a man's word, right."

Henry nodded glumly. "We'll come back?"

"I will. For now, let's get you home."

They made their way into the woods. The stars the previous night had given Hook his bearings and the two left in the direction of Rumpelstiltskin's castle, the current stronghold of the empire, ironically enough.

Hook didn't really feel like talking but Henry talked constantly; asking questions about his adventures as a pirate.

So Hook talked until he couldn't remember what stories he had already told. Sometimes it distracted him, and sometimes it made Henry smile, so he kept going.

Hook hoped they weren't too far away, but fortunately enough (if such a thing could be said) they landed not more than a couple days walk from the castle. By night fall the landscape was starting to look familiar. Unfortunately it was starting to sound familiar too. The cries were still distant for now they had a while yet before the monkeys would be close enough to find them. Too soon, the sun began to set and they were forced to stop for the night. They had diverted from the river some hours before so they began to search for water again. Hook was so distracted by searching for a safe spot for the night he hadn't noticed Henry had wandered off until a cry broke though the trees a strangled scream that was certainly not human.

"Look alive, mate, the Monkeys are b- ... Henry?"

Hook cursed and sprinted through the woods towards the noise. Bursting into a clearing he found Henry standing completely still staring in front of him.

"Henry...Bloody hell, Why must you be so like your mother. I asked you to-"

Henry didn't turn and Hook grew concerned.

"Henry- where's the... are you hurt, lad."

"No, I... it jumped out and ..."

Scanning the area Hook saw the Monkey he had heard on the ground with Henry's knife in its chest.

Hook knelt next to it retrieving the weapon and cleaning it off on the grass.

"Well done, Henry...You mustn't freeze up though, lad, they're rarely alone."

Henry nodded and Hook handed the blade back. "Keep it clean... Or it won't be able to protect you next time."

Hook set up the bedroll for Henry again, and again Henry discarded it within a few hours.

"Do you think she's lonely?" Henry asked.

"No, I think she's worried about you. She would want you to get back to your family first. Small victories, lad, you'll see them again by the end of tomorrow. Henry smiled slightly.

"How do you know which way you are going, have you been here before?"

"Not this exact area, no, but a sailer always knows the stars. No matter how far off course you get thrown... you can always find your way h- back."

Henry gazed up. "The only one I could ever find was the big dipper," Henry mumbled, "but I can't find it anymore."

"They are different here," Hook affirmed. "It was bloody disorienting when I first arrived in your world. You have to understand I hadn't been lost in 3 centuries - not navigationally anyway. Then suddenly my whole world shifted, in more ways than one."

Henry pulled away turning to look straight at Hook.

"Why did you come to get us in New York. My dad said he would see us again, but he didn't come."

"He wanted to, Henry, don't ever doubt that. Your dad loves you more than anything, but... well I'm the one with the magic ship, for one."

"You gave my mom her memories back," Henry said bluntly. "I've been around a lot of magic and there's not much that breaks curses like that. So you love my mom, right."

Uncomfortable bluntness seemed to run in the family. "Aye lad, I do."

"And she loves you?"

"Somehow."

"So does that make you..." Henry started

"Nothing really, I'm not trying to replace your father, Henry. I just ... I love your mom very much, and I will do everything in my power to keep you safe and get her back."

Henry seemed to ponder the words for a while, but eventually his head grew heavy once more.

The next morning dawned like the previous, With Hook chilly but content to let the boy sleep on, wrapped tight in his leather jacket. Hook did not sleep again, he wouldn't, not until he returned Henry to his family. They had been lucky so far, when the monkeys assault had been brief. He wouldn't risk them catching him unaware in sleep, and he certainly was not going to ask Henry to take watch. It was fortunate that they weren't more than a few days away from the castle, because too many nights without sleep and he would be no help to Henry at all.

They made good time, and for some reason the monkeys did not seem so eager to attack them as they drew closer to the castle. It was possible some unknown magic of Regina's protected this land. Henry was tiring, but eventually the castle came into view and it infused him with new energy. They had been spotted quickly, it was good to know that the sentries were paying attention, and before long David and Mary Margaret were galloping towards them with two extra horses in hand. Mary Margaret hardly allowed her horse to slow before leaping off, but her joy at seeing Henry was tainted with fear.

"Where is she?"


	8. On the edge of oblivion

"Where is she?"

...

"We all came back on the Roger..." Hook started but his voice died off. He could not bring himself explain the magnitude of his failure.

"She got stuck ... We left her on the edge of the forest." Henry told them and Mary Margaret held him tightly as the tears started again.

Charming advanced on Hook. "You left her? In the forest? What the hell happened to the man that would do anything to get her back? I trusted you to-"

"The infinite forest, mate."

Charming quieted immediately.

The next hour passed in a blur of commotion. Regina was speechless with joy when she finally took Henry in her arms once more, but even she allowed a hint of worry to cross her face when she realized Emma was nowhere to be found.

He must have looked a wreck, because no one even bother to yell at him since he had told Charming where Emma was. He expected an outburst from Neal, but he just hugged his son tightly.

Hook tried to disappear but Neal caught sight of him out of the corner of his eye and followed him from the room, catching him just outside the door.

_Here goes,_ Hook thought as the man ran to catch up with him. _Time for Neal to remind me that I destroy everything I touch._

"Thank you, Hook."

Hook stared dumbfounded. "Bloody hell."

Now Neal looked confused too.

"Thank you? What in the bloody hell is wrong with you? I lost her. Lost her- A fate worse than death to her, I left her all alone in an endless forest..." Tears threatened to come and Hook wasn't certain why he fought them any longer. Henry was safe, he could break now. No one needed him now.

"You brought my son back to me Hook. There was nothing you could have done for Emma, no one could have known where you would land. I'm..." he touched the other man's shoulder hesitatingly... "I'm sorry Hook."

"I have to go back, Neal."

"Do you have a way to find her?" Neal asked, eyes brightening.

"No, but I have to go back."

"We'll find a way."

"Find a way? There's no way out of there, no one has ever gotten out of there."

"That's not, strictly speaking, true." Charming's voice interrupted from behind him.

Hook turned slowly. "How?"

"I did it once, but not under my own power. The Dark One -"

Both Neal and Hook looked up and surprise.

"Then he can do it again," Hook cried.

"The dark one does not exist anymore." The crocodile himself joined their hallway meeting. "I haven't the power I had then, it was destroyed by the dagger."

"Regina then," Hook suggested.

"She may not have been able to do it even if she wasn't spent protecting this castle," the crocodile gloated.

"So what, we just leave her there?" Neal asked in indignation.

"We will find a way," Charming sighs, "we just don't know what it is yet."

"I'm going back."

"Hook you won't find her in there," Charming challenged, "That's why they call it infinite."

"It's better than sitting around here doing nothing, I can't leave her alone in there."

"Don't be so hasty, dearie, the only way our dear Prince Charming escaped was the call of his true love... And an impressive display of magic if I do say so myself. You broke the curse...So little good it would do her if you were inside too."

Neal tensed but remained silent. He couldn't exactly argue with the facts.

"I'll stay outside ... live in my cabin." Hook resolved.

"Me too!" Henry cried running to Hook's side from behind the door where he had concealed himself.

"Hell no," Neal started-

"Can you give us a minute," Hook asked pulling Henry aside. Neal's jaw tightened but he nodded as Hook led Henry a few feet away and knelt in front of him.

"You can't come with me, mate, you're needed here."

"You're lying, Hook, you're trying to keep me safe. Maybe I don't want to be safe, I want to help-"

"You're an observant lad, Henry, you get that from Emma. So tell me, have you noticed Regina? She needs you Henry, to help her stay strong and protect the castle. And look at your dad...your grandparents... they just got you back...you wouldn't leave them again so soon?"

Henry got that look in his eyes, Emma's look. Determination and fire and frustration but finally he sighed and nodded.

"Good." They walked back to the group and Henry walked up to Neal.

"If I stay here, can we go visit sometimes? He shouldn't have to wait alone."

"Course Henry," Neal said, "when Regina says the monkeys are distracted, we can go."

* * *

Emma didn't move for hours, what purpose would that serve? She had tried several more times in several different directions, But no matter which way she turned she always ended up back at that stone; the dried blood mocking her attempts to escape. She hadn't come across any predators, but she hadn't come across any food either. Oddly enough, that didn't seem to matter. It must've been days, at least, and she felt no hunger. Whatever the reason she was grateful for it. It didn't seem like she would starve, there didn't seem to be any ogres around, or any other living thing for that matter. Just her and an endless expanse of nothing. And she had thought foster care was bad...

She convinced herrself that Henry was safe, that Hook would take care of him. There was no point in thinking otherwise, it would only drive her crazy. There wasn't much else to do in this empty expanse, besides go crazy. She clung to the compass constantly, as it spun without ceasing. He had told her they would find each other, but the broken compass was not exactly helping. Hours passed. Days, maybe weeks there was no way to know. The sun never set, the moon never rose, the dull grey sky held no stars. Her mind was beginning to fracture, reliving both her most precious and most painful memories relentlessly. Sometimes she saw him, smirk fully in place striding across the landscape and she ran to him, but she could make no progress. He stayed ever distant as she tried to reach him. She hadn't slept, so she began to suppose that these were dreams of some sort. Waking dreams since apparently she had no more need for sleep than she did for food.

Eventually she realized that she had no need to fear external enemies of any kind. She was truly alone here. She bathed in the river and kept watch from the tree and tried to give some order to her days... but there was too much time to think...

He lied to her, she realized. He would never find her. She was abandoned again, alone forever, the perfect orphan.

And then she had bursts of mad hope. She would see him in the distance and she would cry out to him. Beg him to find her. The smirk faded. Sometimes he almost looked concerned, but he moved no closer.

She tried to follow him, but he was beyond her range, beyond the endless loop that led her perpetually back to that bloody rock. To the endless stream.

Then one day, she saw him closer. She stopped trying to approach, and eventually he moved towards her again.

"Killian," she screamed. He was closer than he had ever been before.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, "Killian, please don't leave me alone."

"We will always find each other," he told her, speaking for the first time.

It wasn't real, he wasn't real. Even if it was a figment of her imagination, who else was she supposed to talk to in here?

"How, Killian, please..."

Too late, he was gone.

But he always came back. Just like the real Killian he always came back. He hovered, just on the corner of her vision vanishing if she looked too close.

Day by day the figment crept closer. Hovering, just on the edge of her vision vanishing if she looked too close.

"Come back to me," he said.

She was going crazy. What other excuse was there to talk to a man that you know is not real.

She had stopped asking him to find her days ago. He wasn't real, he couldn't find her.

"I hope you have Henry," she told him instead, he was so close somehow it didn't seem strange to talk to him anymore.

"I hope you went back to my family...I wish I could tell you that I don't blame you. I thought I did at first, for stealing my memories of Henry. I thought I should be angry, but I wasn't."

"We will always find each other," he told her again.

"Yeah, you mentioned that. Lovely sentiment, if you'd only bother to follow up on it."

"Come back to me."

"Don't you think I would if I knew how!" she screamed. He disappeared.

Great, now she was arguing with figment, and he was what… giving her the cold shoulder. Still, if this was going crazy, it wasn't so bad. It was better than being alone in here forever.

* * *

Killian made the return journey without incident. Regina, knowing he was traveling, probably had something to do with the lack of aerial attackers. The fog hadn't moved like he thought it would. It claimed the same portion of his ship that it had a days earlier when he had left it behind.

He spent the first few days cleaning and organizing the wreck of the ship. There was no point, really. The Roger was no longer seaworthy even if it wasn't grounded in the middle of a forest. What difference did it make his navigation desk was in order.

It was something to do.

It was so close. His cabin. Just on the edge of the fog. He slept with the door open, told himself that it was to watch in case the fog shifted. If he was being honest, he wasn't sure what he would do if it did.

It was so close... Taunting him, tempting him. Just come in, it told him, just a few steps.

Sometimes he pretended she could hear him.

He told her that he loved her, begged her to come back. Screamed into the fog as if it would help her find her way out. When his voice was sore and hoarse he would retreat back into the cabin and drink himself into a stupor.

Repeat until insane.

"Please come back Emma" he asked, for the thousandth time.

He had given up screaming a few days ago, knew it wouldn't help. Now he just whispered ceaselessly; "We will always find each other, please come back."

Sometimes Charming rode out to see him, he would have a few drinks and talk about Emma. Cry the tears that he refused to let show at home. Then he would retreat. Back into the castle...Back into the Prince. Neal even visited him sometimes. He was calm but red rimmed eyes told Killian he was hurting too. There was no more venom between them. Neither had the energy for it.

Neal brought Henry too, as promised. Henry told him that he knew he would get his mother back. His confidence was just one more barb, because he wasn't doing anything to get her back. Just waiting and begging and getting drunk enough to pretend that she could hear him whispering 'I love you.'

* * *

**AN: A little too angsty to be a Valentines day present... You know when I started this story I mentioned that it was angstier than my usual style. In retrospect I suspect I did not know my usual style yet :P**

**Leave a Review. They make me smile. :) **


	9. Closing in

It didn't take Emma long to realize it was far less fun to argue with this specter than with the real thing. She reminisced anyway though, despite the fact that the 'conversation' was essentially a monologue.

She laughed over their game of wits on the beanstalk, Apologized for leaving him at the top. She thanked him for bringing Henry back from Neverland. He didn't speak to her, not exactly. He only ever said three things; "We will always find each other," "Please come back," and sometimes "I love you" in such a heartbroken whisper that she tried to run to him again, forgetting that she could not reach him.

"What are you?" she asked him one day.

"Please come back."

She sighed. What did it expect her to do. Grow wings? Just walk in circles until she just happened upon the way out. Not that she hadn't tried that. She spend every day walking and somehow when her muscles burned and told her it was time to stop she would find herself here again.

"What are you?" she asked louder, "So what ... you're just here to remind me what I can never get back to?"

He didn't answer, she hadn't really expected him to of course and she was getting irritated.

"Why don't you show me how to get out?" she yelled. "No? Well then you are pretty useless then aren't you. Just get the hell out of here and stop taunting me."

Suddenly red bloomed from a gash on his cheek.

"Killian?" Fear permeated her voice because it wasn't just his cheek anymore. His tunic too was darkening. "What the-Killian, what's happening?"

She threw herself forward but it was too late. He was gone again.

What the hell had just happened. Had she done that? She yelled at him and somehow it actually hurt him? How could that be? She shook her head and clasped shaking hands together as she reminded herself that it wasn't really him. It was a figment, right?

But he didn't come back this time. It seemed like hours though she could never really tell in this place... She was getting worried. Sure it was just a specter, but it was all she had left of him...

So she ran again, a desperate sprint; anything to burn off the nervous energy. It got her nowhere except tired.

* * *

Hook counted every hour until the number grew so daunting he thought it would destroy him. Then he switched to counting days.

For the first week or so it was dead silent. No monkeys (flying or otherwise). Then one or two would stumble across his ship at dawn or dusk. He burned the invaders on the edge of the clearing, thinking it would ward them off. No such luck. By the end of the second week he was beginning to think of the unwelcome visitors as his daily exercise. He rose at dawn and made his way to the edge of the clearing (even though the Roger was grounded, he still couldn't bring himself to allow the beasts to damage it further.) On one of Regina's good days only a few would find him. Today was not a good day.

He could already count 8 and the cries in the distance warned him this might only be the first wave. He had soaked the fallen attackers from the previous day in pitch and now he lit it. These creatures really didn't like fire and he discovered early on that this tactic kept them from overwhelming him all at once. With his back to the flames he could keep the fight on a single front. Most animals would have decided that this was too much trouble days ago, but of course, these weren't really animals. They were soldiers with an animals' talons designed to rip and tear.

Hook turned towards the largest first. The alpha male would be the first to get over the fear of the flames. As expected, the creature shrieked and dove towards Hook. It wasn't so very different from dueling a man. Except that instead of a sword you had to watch out for razor-sharp beaks and deadly talons. Oh, and the wings...

Still they were weak in the same places as a man. Neck, gut...normally Hook would go for knees and tendons but these animals flew more than they walked. Instead the wing joint was better if he could reach it. With a rapid blow the first attacker fell, missing talons. The second blow took its throat. No time to revel in victory as the next few came together. Hook backed as close to the flames as he dared but his opponents pressed on. Perhaps they had finally realized that if Hook could be so close to the flames they were safe too. He might have to reevaluate this strategy...

There was a crash from behind him and sparks flew past making him grateful for the leather protecting his skin. He rolled away from the flames turning to look behind him as he stood.

He would definitely have to reevaluate this strategy.

One of the monkeys had grabbed a long fallen branch from the woods was now charging him with a flaming smoking lance. It was green wood and so it was more smoke than flame, but the development made Killian uneasy nonetheless. Knocking the branch off target with his hook, he relieved the attacker of the idea in a most literal way.

His relief did not last, for as he turned around pain bloomed on his cheek as a talon swept past gouging his cheek and dug down his chest. In moments the creature had joined its brothers on the ground, but this time Hook fell with them.

He lay there for a few moments his eyes drifting closed before he suddenly realized the blood loss was making him groggy. If he passed out that would be the end of it, some wandering monkey would certainly find such an easy target. For the briefest moment the idea did not seem like such a bad one. It was probably the blood loss, but it seemed too much energy to stand. Then he realized what this attack meant. Regina was weakening, couldn't keep them at bay on her own any longer. They would close in on the castle day by day until even those within its walls would not be safe.

Gritting his teeth he pulled himself up. His tunic was tattered ... he had to make it back to his cabin, tie something around this mess before he got too weak. Standing precariously he began the journey which seemed so much longer than it had this morning. Step by torturous step he made his way back to the cabin. His head was swimming as he shut the door to get himself out of sight of any other assailants that might come by. It was all he could do to tie a piece of fabric around himself before collapsing.

* * *

The sound of hoofbeats used to be calming to Snow. But this was no relaxing ride. They needed help. Regina needed help and Charming was organizing a group to take on the monkeys, to relieve some of the pressure. Killian had not left his ship since he had returned Henry to them. She knew he would rather wait there on the edge of the fog forever. If she was being perfectly honest she would like to do the same thing. But they had other people to think about now.

She should be getting close now... her horse began to hesitate and his eyes went wide. In a few seconds Snow could smell it too. Smoke. She urged the horse on, suddenly nervous. Reaching the ship she could see the fire in the distance. Tying up the two horses so they wouldn't spook, she ran onto the ship. There was blood on the deck and she followed it deeper into the ship. Pushing open the door to the Captain's quarters she called his name.

"Killian?"

When the door opened she gasped in horror. The pirate was face down on the floor, blood soaked his tunic and a shirt was tied haphazardly around him. Kneeling next to him she was relieved to discover that he was only unconscious and his pulse was strong. She pushed him onto his back to get a better look at the wound. It was talons, obviously he had been dealing with them out here too...

Using some supplies and water that she found in the room she began to clean off the wound. It wasn't as deep as it had looked at first, but he was lucky she had come. If he had been left like this infection would have set in and he wouldn't have lasted long when the next wave of creatures descended.

His eyes began to move under their lids as she tied off the neat bandages.

"Emma?"

Snow's heart clenched and unexpected tears filled her eyes.

"Emma, love ... "

"It's just me, Killian" Snow said sadly and his eyes flicked open.

"Snow... I thought- Wait, what are you doing here?"

"Saving your life, apparently."

"Jus a scratch."

"True and with proper care you'll be fine in no time. However collapsed on your face with a dirty shirt tied around you does not constitute proper care."

"How did you know..."

"I actually came to ask for your help. Unfortunately it seems you are aware of the reason. I brought a second horse... We should get back to the castle before sunset. How do you feel, do you think you can ride?"

"Bloody fantastic, of course."

By horseback the journey back to the castle was shortened to a couple of hours. Not that it was particularly pleasant riding for Killian.

The monkeys were massing on the border lands. Regina's power kept them at a distance, but the distance shrank each day. So they rode out to meet them.

"A hunting party," Charming joked, "just like the old days."

Snow tried to convince Hook to delay for a while but he insisted that he could fight. Snow just rolled her eyes but Charming decided to make use of royal authority and absolutely refused to take Hook with him for 24 hours.

It was a long 24 hours, and he missed two hunting parties before he was allowed to join them. It gave him purpose, Allowed Hook spend a portion of his day doing something other than counting the hours staring at the fog.

A regular pattern emerged. They raided the monkeys at night and with the sunrise Hook rode back to his cabin on the edge of the fog. The sunset drove him back towards the castle again to take out his frustration on those bloody monkeys. Gradually they reclaimed their boarders.

Days passed, weeks and months... He stopped counting the days; started counting weeks. Told himself it didn't mean what she said it meant. It didn't mean he was giving up hope. He ignored the voice in his head that taunted him. _She's gone. It's been months. She's dead. She's never coming back._

* * *

"I love you," Emma heard again.

It was back.

She shot up, relief flooded through her as she looked around.

She found him seated not far away. The gash was still there but partially healed now. She didn't ask what happened, because he wouldn't answer her.

It disappeared and reappeared at regular intervals now. It would sit with her for a few hours then disappear for another few always leaving, but always returning.

She tried a more systematic approach to her escape plan, using tree branches to indicate which directions she had tried to leave and from which direction she returned. She thought perhaps there was one way, one exit that she hadn't tried yet. She grew accustomed to the pattern of Killian leaving and returning, and it no longer surprised her when she noticed him walking behind her or he suddenly disappeared. When he was there she talked to him. Like she was writing a letter, expecting no response. He still spoke to her occasionally, but it was like a recording. Broken and repeating the same few things endlessly. Still it let her hear his voice. Made her feel a bit less alone.

Until the day she finished the last one. She sat in the center of a circle of sticks pointing in every direction around her. She had tried every single direction from this place and still she was here. Tears finally came as she realized there was nothing left to do. She could think of nothing left to try... Finally, she realized she was never leaving this place.

"I love you," she heard from the distance.

"I love you too, Killian," she said trough her tears. She clasped the compass in both hands, wishing she could see him again, wanting nothing more than to see him, to tell him. The compass felt warm in her hands and she dropped it in surprise. Picking it up again it was still warm. Her heart began to race, this was different. She remembered the feeling. Last time she had felt this it was when she had lit that candle, when her magic had saved Hook and Neal from Pan's shadow.

What had she been doing, to make something change. She was thinking about Killian; about how much she wanted to return to him. Channelling that emotion into the compass like a child wishes on a star. She focused on that again, pouring all of her desperate emotion into one wish: "Please let me find him."

The compass stopped spinning.

Was it broken?

She turned around but it constantly pointed in one direction. It shimmered, glistened, and somehow in her heart she knew this was it. This was magic, and she didn't know how it was happening but she ran.

She had already started this way, but she always went in a straight line, trying to put as much distance between herself and that spot as possible. Now she followed the compass, it told her to weave through clusters of underbrush and sometimes turned her backwards. She almost stopped when the compass sent her sprinting in the direction she had just come from, but the compass glowed brighter still and she hadn't seen that rock in miles. Hours passed and she could not stop. The sky lightened but the trees grew denser. Her pace slowed, she had to be more careful now picking her way through trees and roots. The compass pointed onward still, but suddenly the ground dropped steeply away. She turned slightly off course, trying to find a way around the cliff. The trees opened up to either side, but the compass pointed back.

"Alright, I can take a hint," Emma mumbled. She put the compass in her pocket, She was going to need both hands for this descent. It was perilous ground, rocks jutted out of the wall in tempting hand grips that buckled under any pressure. She had climbed about 20 feet down when she realized she could go no further. The rock face became sheer. She could ascend or go in any other direction, but this way was impassable.

Pulling the compass out one more time, she saw that it still glowed, still pointed in the only direction that she could not go. It was a long way down... Emma closed her eyes. Who was she to ignore a magical glowing compass. This was probably going to hurt...

Hoping that she was less of a fool then she felt at this particular moment, she let go, and slipped down the sheer face of the cliff.

* * *

**AN: Leave a review and make me smile :) Hope you've been enjoying the journey. Poor Killian is having a rough time ****... but it does look like Emma is making some progress! What's at the bottom of the cliff? Don't worry, it's not a cliff hanger because I already made her drop off the edge :P **


	10. At last

It didn't hurt... She had thrown herself off a cliff following a glowing compass and it didn't hurt. Don't think about it she warned herself. Your sanity is not so sure at the moment anyway... She opened her eyes hesitatingly and they immediately began to water. It was no wonder ... How long had it been since they had seen the sun? It was beautiful, so beautiful, and in the distance she could just make out the wreck of the Jolly Roger. She made her way towards the ship.

It must have been at least a few days or a week since they had parted, the ship was likely deserted by now. As she approached, however she saw that the ship was shrouded in fog. That was how she had gotten stuck in that forest. Half of the ship was consumed by it. But the enchanted mist held no interest to her after she saw him, silhouetted against the fog. Facing it, staring into it mere inches away from the border. He wasn't going to...No, he didn't look like he was trying to enter. He was waiting for something. She almost called out, but she found herself inexplicably fascinated by the scene and she waited too. Waited for something to happen for something to come out of the fog.

"I don't know how much more of this I can stand." His back was still towards her and she barely caught the words as they drifted down off the ship. His tone was flat and tired. She spoke that way at Graham's grave once, and when she had spoken to the specter. Spoke like one composing a letter that they never expected would be received.

She moved closer, clinging to his words, to the sound of his voice. She had not heard him say anything but a few phrases in so long... He still didn't turn, he seemed captivated by the fog in front of him.

"He's safe, love, and we're pushing them back. I know I can't give in, I know I must keep him safe for you but...This bloody forest. It calls to me like a siren, darling. I fear I will soon have to tie myself to the mast like the sailors of old...God, I'm just so exhausted. " His shoulders bowed at the admission and his voice dropped to a now familiar whisper. "Please, Swan... please come back to me," he asked.

It was her, she realized with a start. He was talking to her.

A smile grew across her face and she couldn't help herself. "As you wish," she called.

Killian turned, and for a moment she had a horrible feeling that he didn't know who she was. He looked at her with confusion as if waiting for her to introduce herself. Then in a rapid movement he grabbed a rope and slid down to her side. Before she could fully register that he had moved she was enveloped in a bone crushing hug.

"God above, my lass," he muttered without releasing her, "you'll be the death of me."

"At the moment, you're the one trying to crush me."

"Well in absence one does sometimes forget the beautiful details...it seems I've forgotten how delicate you are," he mumbled.

"I've brought you to your knees with a single blow, I'll have you remember," Emma scoffed. He finally pulled away a bit and looked at her, the tiniest hint of a smirk growing on his lips.

"You could do so with a single word if you chose very carefully."

"You're disgusting," she laughed.

"You're brilliant." His tone was serious now and he was gazing awestruck at the compass in her hand. Raising her hand to his lips he kissed it before turning it over. He took the compass in his own hand examining it and placing a kiss on her palm while he did so.

"I, um, I didn't do anything... " She tried to focus but he had kissed her hand, her palm. She should have considered it a silly antiquated move but she could not deny the tingling that she still felt there. "Regina-"

"Didn't have the power. Even Rumpelstiltskin didn't have the power anymore. It's simple magic, based on emotion, on the most powerful of emotions. But they couldn't find you in there, making it far more... complex."

"Rumpelstiltskin?"

"I speak to you of love and the crocodile is what you fixate on, darling?"

"Well it's not everyday you learn someone you thought was dead isn't..."

His gaze held hers with a fevered intensity, "Aye, lass, too true." She looked away and he finally continued. He sighed shaking his head. Months apart, months wondering if she was dead, if she would ever come back..and now she was all business. That was Emma Swan. "The dark one is dead. Rumpelstiltskin remains. I don't think about it too hard, gives bloody bad headaches."

"Henry?"

"With your family, love, as promised." He brushed her hair back as he spoke, studying her face, drinking in her features... the feeling of her hair on his skin. Her cheeks flushed a gorgeous pink as he looked on and he smiled.

"You're staring, Hook. Do I look such a mess as that?"

"You look like a dream."

Emma laughed. "Really? Do you plan these things in advance... like a little book where you write down..."

"It's not a line, darling, not exactly. You do look like a dream... You don't exactly look like you've been in the woods for..." He paused as something seemed to occur to him, "How long has it been...for you?"

"I don't exactly know, days kind of blurred together you know. There's no sunset in there, you don't even sleep or get hungry...there's nothing to measure the passage of time..."

"A conjecture then, my dear."

"I guess it felt like, a week? So it's probably been less time than that ... it must have felt longer than it was since I didn't sleep, right?"

"I ... It seems time moves strangely in there."

"Why are you acting so..." Finally her brain registered his worn appearance, the dark circles under his eyes and she reached up to his face where a new scar was already completely healed along his cheek. "How long has it been?"

"I counted every hour. Then I stopped counting hours and counted the days...every day for weeks. Eventualy I stopped counting them too." He paused for a moment, "Four months... It would have been four months tomorrow."

"Four months?" She repeated not quite certain she had heard correctly. "It didn't feel like four months...it felt..."

"longer." He finished as she was about to say the opposite.

The word held such pain it hit her like a physical blow, finally convincing her of its truth. "I'm sorry," she said softly, burying herself into his arms once more. "I didn't mean to make you wait so long."

He held her so tightly it hurt but she just held on tighter. Finally he turned his lips to her ear.

"Shall we reevaluate your aversion towards padded rooms now?"

* * *

**AN: Thanks for those of you that have left me reviews, they make my day. This one is shorter but I wanted to get out some fluffiness to make up for all that angst I put you through.**


	11. At last (Part II)

"Shall we reevaluate your aversion towards padded rooms now?"

"Oh yes, I forgot. That's why you brought me here, then?"

"I'm going to take that as a perhaps." He paused, "You sure you're all right, lass?"

Emma nodded, looking him over. She raised her hand to his cheek, her eyes falling on the tops of several scars that started at his neck and worked their way down his torso, past where she could see them. "You were injured...I'm sorry I should have been there. Isn't that why I'm here? Save the world and all that."

"I've no doubt you will." He laughed suddenly and Emma looked at him confusedly.

"What is so funny, Captain?"

"I was just thinking... and you should call me that more often."

"Spill."

"Well you were there, almost. I nearly bloody kissed your mother."

"Excuse me?" Is it possible to have missed a look of derision? Apparently so.

"Well it had been months darling... a man has-"

"I swear if you finish that sentence those scars will be no more than a happy memory compared to what I will do to you."

"Point taken. In actuality, your mother saved my life. I was out cold, bit delirious. Thought it was you. Fortunately she had the presence of mind to announce herself before I got enough strength back to kiss my long-lost love. Speaking of -"

Suddenly his lips were on hers and her legs nearly buckled with the relief. No more phantoms, no more chasing ghosts that were always, almost, not quite there. She responded easily, as if it were the most natural thing in all the world. As if she hadn't spent months perfecting the art of avoiding this very situation.

Their first kiss had been heart-stopping, heart-breaking and shocking. She called his bluff. After all his talk when she finally kissed him he hardly knew how to respond. Torn between desire and the fear that she would run he didn't even wrap his arms around her, didn't push her any farther than she pushed him. The first had been a competition, a battle of wills which he had most thoroughly lost. This one was completion, filling the hole in his heart that had been his constant companion for months, longer, really.

The monkeys apparently did not appreciate the magnitude of the occasion and a shrill cry made him jump back with sword drawn.

Emma drew her own blade with a look of confusion. "There's nothing there, Killian."

"There shall be, love. The sun will set soon, we need to get back to the castle."

There was a mad gleam in his eyes and Emma stepped in front of him to try to recapture his attention "You haven't been sleeping?" It wasn't really a question.

"Sure I have, love."

She raised an eyebrow, "And that's why the distant cry of an enemy nearly made you jump out of your skin. I've never known you to be... jumpy."

"Perhaps not, I imagine I'll sleep better this night."

"How long?"

"As long as the lady wishes, of course."

"To the castle, Hook. How far is the castle?"

"Alone I can make 2 hours... it will take longer with both of us."

"Can we travel after nightfall?"

"If they mass against us we won't be able to outrun them on one horse...We'll have to leave first thing tomorrow."

"Hook, I have to get back to Henry, If this is just a way to-"

"Killian, remember; and while we are going to have to do something about those trust issues one day, sweetheart, now is not the time. We are about to have guests for dinner."

As promised the clearing was soon visited by the first of the flying monkeys.

For a moment Emma simply stared at it. "Seriously? Is anything just a story?"

"Kraken." Hook called as the first creature fell at his feet.

"What?" She finally broke free of her shock and joined the fray.

"Kraken. I've spent a long time on the sea, never seen one. I don't think they actually exist."

"That's a great comfort right now. Thank you, Hook." Emma said as the sickening thud of his hook slicing through an assailant came from behind her.

His voice was closer now as he moved to cover her back. "I suppose at the moment the moniker is " he paused, the comment interrupted by an odd crunching noise, "appropriate."

When the last of the creatures had fallen she leaned back against Killian's back and both slid to the ground in exhaustion.

"Was that...normal?" Emma asked breathlessly.

"I admit, it was slightly closer to the terrifying side of normal. I do believe those things are holding a grudge. I have done significant damage to their ranks of late."

A small laugh escaped Emma's lips. It bubbled out in spite of everything or perhaps because of it. She dropped her head onto her knees and laughed louder.

"Lass..." Hook questioned, turning around and dropping an arm around her shoulder. "Are you all right? Most of my acquaintance do not find being covered in monkey blood quite so...exhilarating."

"This is just...a little insane. I spent a year chasing down bail jumpers and two seconds back here and I'm stuck in a time loop forest and following sparkly navigation instruments and fighting flying monkeys" She finally got her laughing under control as Hook climbed to his feet and offered her his hand.

"And falling in love with a devilishly handsome pirate?"

She took his hand and climbed to her feet. "I see the past year and a half has done nothing to that ego of yours."

"Some things never change, darling."

"Some things do."

His smirk softened. "Aye, lass. Let's get back to the ship."

* * *

"Do you think she can be salvaged?" Emma asked as she leaned against the mast, cracked but still upright.

Hook sighed, and sat on the deck facing away from the fog. "I don't think so. I couldn't have done a better job if I had tried to scuttle her. The hull is shattered. She'll never be the same."

"Why, couldn't it be repaired?"

"I've spent a lot of time either on my own or with a skeleton crew. Under normal circumstances even the best couldn't sail her like that. Usually takes a much larger crew."

"Then how-"

"She's built from enchanted wood, somehow...she's a mind of her own at times. Trying to make her float by repairing that ... We'll I don't think traveling between realms is in her future. I'll certainly never be able to sail her alone again."

"Maybe you no longer have to."

"Are you suggesting I go straight? Pick up the white uniform again." He shuddered in mock horror.

"Perhaps not the uniform."

"I knew you liked it."

"Silence, pirate."

"Never, princess."

She glanced over towards the fog behind him which he was pointedly ignoring. "You've been out here...all this time?"

"We stayed here that first night. I don't think either one of us could bear to leave. After that I got him to the castle and returned on my own. He killed his first monkey on his own that day."

"You let my son fight those things?"

"No need to thank me, darling," he teased. "He misses you, but he's safe. With Regina," he voiced dropped a bit as he continued, "and his father."

"Neal's here."

"Of course, Believe it or not we have even managed to keep the duels to a minimum in your absence. It needn't be complicated, love, I don't think he'll fight this."

"Why not?"

"That's a conversation to be having with him. Suffice it to say, as much as he missed you, darling, his eyes have not been blinded to other...possibilities."

"How would you know that if you've been out here the whole time?"

"They visit occasionally, and these last few weeks I've spent nights back at the castle with the hunting parties and days here."

"And somehow now that I'm here, I'm supposed to turn everything around?"

"You must admit that's how it usually goes."

"What am I going to do about it?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure it will be great fun." His eyes turned serious. "You did some impressive magic to get yourself out of that forest. They didn't think it was possible, had given up hope. I couldn't.

"I didn't have a clue what I was doing."

"Imagine what you could do if you had."

"Why did you stay out here, why not just give up?"

"Character flaw, I'm sure. I suppose it would have been easier to do what everyone else did. Move on... try to keep busy enough that you can't think until you figured out how to pop yourself out of there."

"Thank you, I don't think I could have gotten out without you here."

He laughed. "Practicing your diplomacy, Swan? Because I'm fairly certain I had nothing to do with that little magic trick."

"You were there. In the forest," she continued and he looked puzzled. "I don't know how. You would be there for a while and then you would disappear then you'd come back. I suppose that must have been when you were coming back and forth to the edge. You told me that we would always find each other... that you loved me..."

"That I did." He glanced toward the bow of his ship and then stood, walking to the very edge of the fog. "From right here, every day. I dreamed that you could hear me, but I never really..."

Putting a hand on his shoulder she pulled him away from the fog. He smiled, it hadn't been the first time she had pulled him back from the edge, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

"It's late and I haven't slept in... an indeterminate amount of time."

"Of course. I believe you know where the captain's quarters are?"

Emma glared. "Fear not princess, It's a gentleman's duty to give up his quarters to a lady."

She scoffed but made her way back towards the cabin and disappeared down the ladder.

Hook knew he wouldn't be able to sleep yet. Maybe once they were back in the castle, when she was no longer alone, perhaps then he would sleep. He leaned heavily against the mast where she had stood moments ago and looked around the grounded vessel. It was the end of her, who knows if he would ever sail with her again. He wouldn't be able to come back for a while and he wouldn't put it past the monkeys to burn her out of spite.

He surveyed every part of the ship that was not lost in the fog, running his hands along wood and rope and metal, as if he didn't already have every inch of her memorized in perfect detail. He heard the creak of the ladder behind him and turned.

"Did you need something, Swan?"

"You're not really going to stay out here all night...I feel weird about kicking you out."

"Was that an invitation, darling?" He laughed but she didn't.

"Only to sleep."

"My word, love."

She disappeared below deck and he followed silently. He felt a little strange about going below...he couldn't see the fog from here. But it had not moved in 4 months...it wouldn't move now, he reasoned.

Emma was sitting on the bed when he reached the bottom of the ladder. "I don't think I thought this through thoroughly," she laughed awkwardly indicting the size of the bed.

He said nothing, just walked over and sat down next to the head of the bed. He stretched out, turning towards her; sitting up with his back against the wall. He stretched out his hand to her and when she took it he pulled her up against him.

"Sleep well, love" he whispered as she lay her head on his chest.

"You too, pirate."

* * *

**Sneak peak:**

Shooting out of bed he searched the room desperately for any sign of Emma, mind racing in something approaching panic. She had to have been here. He wouldn't have fallen asleep below deck if she had never emerged from that fog. Certainly he wouldn't have fallen asleep against the wall without a reason, without her...

Hands shaking he shot up the ladder towards the deck.

* * *

**AN: Sorry about the delay. Took a little break from this story to write something (a little fluffy) that popped into my head and wouldn't get out! Leave a review. Where do you think Emma went? Unless you think I'm cruel enough to have made Hook take a trip to crazy town... **


	12. Port in the Storm

He woke alone. There was nothing unusual about that. It was unusual however that he was below deck. As the grogginess of sleep faded the memories came back. She was back. Emma.

Where was she now?

Fear welled up inside him.

His mind couldn't possibly be so cruel as that as to taunt him with a day in her company, could it?

Shooting out of bed he searched the room desperately for any sign of Emma, mind racing in something approaching panic. She had to have been here. He wouldn't have fallen asleep below deck if she had never emerged from that fog. Certainly he wouldn't have fallen asleep against the wall without a reason, without her...

Hands shaking he shot up the ladder towards the deck. Reaching the top a gruesome sight met his eyes. A piece of a wing. Blood. The sun was already up, the monkeys have already been here. Why hadn't he woken, and where was she? As he looked at the disaster on the deck of his ship his fear that Emma had not really been here became a desperate hope.

"Emma?" He cried.

"What's wrong?" came a voice, quickly followed by the lady herself.

Two steps and she was in his arms, he held her tight and buried his head into her hair.

"What it it, Killian, are you hurt, are there more of them?" She was looking around, trying to break free as he held her in a vice grip. "I'm sorry, I made ... um, kind of a mess."

"No, no. Everything is perfect." He said, shaking his head to clear it.

Emma stopped fighting, suddenly realizing what had happened. She wrapped her arms around Killian. "I needed some air, some time...I'm not used to sleeping. Certainly not with someone else."

Killian must have been thoroughly distracted because he didn't even take advantage of the easy joke. He looked around in confusion.

"It's morning... I slept?"

"Yes."

"And the-"

"Took care of them already, you needed sleep. I am sorry about the...mess."

"That was reckless, lass."

"There weren't many, I would have called if I needed help."

"I thought we had an agreement about heroics."

"I hardly think that a few flying monkeys qualifies as heroics."

"And what, pray tell, does qualify."

"Bringing us back from New York. Keeping Henry safe, fighting for my family for four months even after I was gone. I think you've something of a heroic streak."

He took a step forward pausing mere inches from her and he smiled as she took a step back towards the mast.

"You're lucky I've changed, wench, there was a time I would have killed for such an insult."

"I'm not afraid of you, pirate, you've gone soft," she retorted.

His hook flew to her waist pushing her firmly against the mast as he leaned into her.

"Soft, darling?" he whispered in her ear. "Is that what you think?" His lips brushed her ears as he spoke and Emma suppressed a shiver.

She should say something witty...something contentious... something...

"That's what I thought, Princess."

"Shouldn't we get going?" Emma asked distractedly as he dropped a light kiss on her ear.

His lips dropped down to her neck, "Is that really what you want?" he mumbled.

"Henry," she mumbled.

"Generally, I would object to you saying any name other than mine, love."

"He's been alone for four months..."

"He wasn't quite alone. Myself on the other hand..."

"Are you trying to guilt me into staying here with you instead of getting back to my son."

A smile flitted across his lips and he took a step back. "Certainly not, It turns out I still value my life."

The little distance allowed Emma's head to clear and she laughed. "I told you..."

"Don't tempt me love, or you'll not be riding for several days."

"Killian?" a voice cried.

Emma jumped back in surprise then ran for the edge of the ship.

"Mom?"

The figure froze, "Emma?"

In moments Mary Margaret was running towards the ship and Emma was climbing down. Mary Margaret tackled her daughter in a tight hug; "You're back, you're here, you're back..."

"Yes, I think you've about covered that."

"You're ok?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Where's Killian?"

"Here, luv," the pirate said, sliding down the side of the ship. "You have interesting timing, Snow, we were just about to head back."

"So... you guys are on a first name basis..." Emma said, eyebrows raised.

"It's been a long year and a half..."

"So what is it this time?" Killian asked.

"More of the same," Snow said, not relinquishing her hold on Emma, "but we were concerned when you didn't make the evening hunt. We should go, God, Emma, Henry is going to be so happy to see you."

They mounted the horses and Killian mounted without a saddle (to allow a second passenger) before offering his hand to Emma.

Snow raised her eyebrows at Killian, who responded with a smile: "Only because my horse is fresher, of course."

Emma scoffed but took his hand, allowing him to pull her in front of him. Looping the reins over his hook he placed his good hand on her hip. "This is going to be fun," he whispered.

That was something of an exaggeration. Emma was not particularly fond of horses, or riding even when she had a saddle, and whoever was writing those fairy tales certainly didn't have much experience with horses. Riding with another person was not exactly an easy comfortable experience. Still, Killian's arms around her were sure and strong and what was the point of lying. It was distracting. As the ride went on though her focus shifted. Any minute now they would reach the castle. She yearned to see Henry again. Even though it had only felt like a week for her, a part of her memories (false though they may be,) told her that she had never been apart from him for so long. She hadn't really finished sorting through all of the false memories Even though she knew what was real...she couldn't seen to escape the emotional responses that came to the surface as though they were true.

Finally the castle came into view, and Emma found herself leaning imperceptibly forward. Imperceptible to any but the one sitting behind her.

"Almost home, love," he whispered then turned his head towards Snow.

"Not as warm a reception as last time," he commented and Snow turned towards him.

"Everyone is under strict orders not to leave the castle unless absolutely necessary. It would be a poor example to break that rule now."

"Your husband differs in his opinion."

"What," Snow asked, returning her gaze to the castle . Charming's white horse was making incredible speed as he came to greet them. And before long Emma realized he wasn't alone.

"Mom!," came the distant cry.

"Henry!" Emma called; In no time the horses converged and Emma struggled to get off. "Stop, Hook, let me-"

"Not here, darling," Hook tightened his grip around her, and sure enough Charming did not stop either, simply looping around and following them back. As soon as the castle gates closed Emma tumbled to the ground, finding her legs were a little confused by solid ground after her ride. But that didn't bother her as she made her way over to take Henry in her arms.

"I'm sorry it took so long," she whispered.

"It's ok, Mom, I knew you would come back."

"Read that in your book, kid?"

"Of course. Heros have to live happily ever after."

"Could have warned me," Hook grumbled. "That book of yours didn't mention when that would be happening did it?"

Henry looked at him like he was crazy and the pirate just shrugged.

"How about how you defeat the wicked witch?" Emma whispered to her son.

Henry scoffed at them both. "You just skip to the end of books too, don't you?" A small laugh that must have been Belle broke into the conversation but she was blocked from Emma's view by Charming jumping down from his horse and scooping her up into a hug.

He let her go and squeezed her shoulder. "I'm proud of you Emma. I never could have gotten out of there on my own."

"We must have a celebration," Snow suddenly cried, "A ball!"

Emma looked up in horror and Hook and her father both erupted into laughter simultaneously.

"Perhaps another time, Snow." Charming said with a smile...I do believe you just terrified our daughter beyond what any fiend possibly could."

Eventually Emma began to indicate that she was sleepy and her mother rushed her off to show her where she would be staying.

* * *

Charming wrapped his arms around his wife with a smile. "A ball?"

"I just wanted her to know how much we missed her... how happy we are to have her back."

"I think if you really wanted to do something for her you would allow her to miss the ball," Charming laughed.

"I know. You're right, it was silly."

"It was adorable." He blew out the lights.

"We haven't told her about the witch yet." Mary Margaret worried.

"Hook probably has, and she certainly known about the monkeys. I have the feeling she knows what that means."

"Do you think-"

"Yes," Charming interrupted.

"What?"

"I think you worry too much."

"That's not what I was going to say."

"But it is what you needed to hear."

She smiled. "You're right. We're together now."

"And everything is going to be fine."

Despite the sentiment, neither could sleep. So Charming told Snow about the infinite forest. (Focusing a bit on the good parts.) The fact that you are never hungry or tired or cold. How hours slip by outside in what feels like moments.

Snow eventually drifted off and Charming sat up gently so as not to wake his wife. He'd just drop by. Just make sure everything is all right. When he reached Emma's bedroom he discovered he was not the first to have this thought. The pirate hovered outside her door, pacing back and forth distractedly.

When Charming coughed slightly Hook jumped.

"It's not what it looks like, Mate. I just... needed to be sure she was ok."

"I know. I'm here too, aren't I."

Charming sat wearily at the end of the hall and after a few moments Hook joined him.

"It feels so strange, so unreal," the prince mused. "like a dream. "

"And I can't sleep for fear of waking," Hook responded taking a sip of his flask and handing it to Charming.

Charming nodded gratefully. "My favorite toast: Here's to not having to look again for a while."

"Cheers, mate, and thank you."

"For what?"

"I know you didn't need one extra hand that badly for those hunts. I don't know if it was your idea or Mary Margaret's but it saved my life. Probably kept me from throwing myself into the fog too."

"Maybe we didn't need a hand...but the hook sure came in handy."

Hook chuckled humorlessly as Charming continued. "It was mine, actually. Mary Margaret just wanted to go visit. I knew you needed a job more than you needed a visitor."

"And now I know where your daughter gets her perceptiveness."

Charming laughed and stood. He paused as he left, seemingly unsure if he should say something. Finally he did. "It get's easier, you know. Once you've found each other a few times...you do start to believe you always will."

Hook nodded. It wasn't until after Charming had left that Hook realized that it was as close to acceptance as he was likely to get from Emma's father.

* * *

The bed was a nice change, but sleep still eluded her. She hadn't really been sleepy, but the horrifying concept of having to discuss a homecoming ball was a little too much for Emma to contemplate at the moment. Eventually the castle began to quiet as most of its inhabitants retired to their rooms. Still she heard footsteps in the hallway. Guards probably, thanks to her overprotective parents. Eventually those too stopped and Emma decided to see if she could slip out into the hallway. After so long in the open air she felt as though the room were closing in around her.

She was a princess here, right. She mentally rehearsed what she would say to the guard outside. She finally settled on: "I'm a princess, not a prisoner," as she cracked open the door and peeked outside. It was no guard. Well it was, in a way.

Hook lay against the wall at the end of the hallway, fast asleep. She couldn't leave without walking right over top of him, but neither could anyone enter the hallway without passing him.

Suddenly everything clicked into place. She had grown accustomed to his presence always nearby, and the familiarity was comfortable. She ducked back into the room and grabbed her sword. Leveling at the pirate she cleared her throat.

"I am well capable of defending myself against intruders, pirate."

Hook's eyes widened and his hand flew to his own blade before his mind registered the person on the other side of the weapon.

"Ah, Swan, It's been months since you last threatened my life properly. However did you resist for so long?"

She laughed, lowering the weapon. "You have your uses."

"That I do. Shouldn't good princesses be in bed at this hour?"

"Good pirates too?"

"No, bad pirates are in bed at this hour," he smirked. "Good pirates get threatened by fiery princesses at this hour."

With him around she felt herself relax (...maybe sleep wasn't such a bad idea after all.) Dropping the weapon next to her she sat down and laid her head on his shoulder.

"So, everything is as it should be then?"

Hook chuckled and wrapped an arm around her.

"Aye, lass. That it is."

Fortunately for them it was not Charming but Mary Margaret who found them there the next morning. She smiled, Emma's sword was sitting next to her, and Killian had removed his hook and set it next to him so that he could wrap his arms around her daughter. Emma was curled up in the pirate's arms, content and peaceful, right there in the hallway. She looked quickly over her shoulder to see if Charming had followed yet. The hall was still empty...

Perhaps today was a good day to bring her husband breakfast in bed.

* * *

**Leave me a review if you can! For more Hook and Emma awesomeness check out my other stories:**

**My newest: Letters to Home. Letter during that 1 year. Day 0. (s/10180233/1/Letters-to-Home)  
**

**Slip Knot - pre-curse. How did Hook make the decision to back off even after promising to win Emma's heart? ( s/10058676/1/Slip-Knot)**

**Or for a bit of fluff "Breaking and Entering" ( s/10131513/1/Breaking-and-Entering)**

******Thanks for reading, and a particular thank you to those that have been reviewing, I really appreciate it!**


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